The Best Care Anywhere
by RadcliffePotter
Summary: When an unexpected visitor arrived at camp, bleeding and in need of help, it made sense that the doctors and nurses would heal her. But they did not expect the healing that they received in return. Originally called "Only For Now"!
1. Going for Help

**The Best Care Anywhere**

By: RadcliffePotter

_Disclaimer: I don't own M*A*S*H. If I did, God knows it never would have ended. I only own the original characters that I created. All medical procedures listed are real treatments for the given ailments. However, if you really are sick, don't listen to me, go see a doctor! For permission to reproduce, contact meltownley at gmail dot com Thanks!_

There had been a comfortable lull at the 4077th. The past two days had been sunny and clear, and they hadn't had any wounded. Other than Radar, who was always hard at work to keep the unit running, the rest of the camp had spent their days indoors, away from the oppressive heat. The weather made it difficult to sleep at night. Hot, sticky, cranky, and sleep deprived, Hawkeye made his way to the mess tent. It was early for him – around seven in the morning. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep. Father Mulcahy and Colonel Potter sat together at one table, quietly conversing. Hawkeye grabbed a cup of what was supposed to pass for coffee and joined the two other men.

"Oh, Hawkeye," Father Mulcahy said genially as Hawkeye sat down.

"Father," Hawkeye inclined his head slightly in response.

"Hot as blazes," Potter muttered grumpily. "It's just too dang hot for this time of the morning."

Hawkeye nodded as he sipped the lukewarm beverage. The three men conversed sparingly. Even talking seemed to take an inordinate amount of effort in the oppressive heat. Then out of nowhere, a sharp cry broke the silence; a yell from the distance. From inside the mess tent, whatever was being yelled was indistinguishable, but it was clear that the call was panicked. The three men jumped up from the table. Hawkeye was first out the door. His army green, unbuttoned, standard issue jacket flapped behind him as he ran.

Colonel Potter followed close behind, and Hawkeye heard him yell, "Beaver biscuits! What the heck is going on out here?"

"It sounded like it came from outside the camp," Father Mulcahy, who was bringing up the rear, said loudly.

Father Mulcahy was right, asnd clearly they had not been the only ones to hear the disturbance. Heads were peering out of tents all over the camp. Even a few well-lathered heads poked themselves out from the showers. Hawkeye spotted a figure running towards the camp at full tilt. As the figure came closer, it became clear that it was no Korean soldier. He could see no weapons, and the carriage of the figure was one of fear not aggression.

After a few more moments, Hawkeye realized it was a girl. From her skin tone, he could tell she wasn't Korean. She wasn't wearing any sort of uniform, so it was clear that she wasn't part of the army. From the look of her clothes, which seemed old, worn, and homespun, it seemed that she identified more with the Koreans than the Americans. She came running into camp, face flushed, gasping for breath. Her reddish-blonde hair was disheveled, and her clothes were dirty and blood stained. She leaned forward as she attempted to speak, her hands on her knees.

Nothing but a vague wheezing sound came out. She took a deep, apparently steadying breath, and then looked up at the three men in front of her. Hawkeye noticed a jagged cut on her forehead, a large amount of blood on her right pant leg, and a slightly hunched-over, guarded posture. Whether the former was the result of attempting to catch her breath or from some unseen injury, Hawkeye couldn't tell.

By this point, the commotion had awakened BJ, whose curiosity had propelled him to where the other men were. He came up beside Hawkeye, looked at him, and said, "Hawk? What's going on?"

The raven haired doctor returned BJ's troubled look and began to approach their visitor. She seemed to have regained enough control of her breathing to speak, for she took a step toward Hawkeye and said, "Are you a doctor?"

Hawkeye came closer still, and she looked as though she might back away. "Yes, I am," Hawkeye said as he continued to mentally assess her injuries.

She looked relieved when he confirmed that he was a doctor. She hurried forward and tugged on his arm. "My friends! They're hurt! Please come help them!" She tugged on his arm again as thought she were attempting to make him understand by sheer force of will. A strange mix of hope, pain, and desperation mixed on her face. BJ came up behind Hawkeye.

"Where are your friends?" he asked in a calm and reassuring voice, rather like the voice one might use to talk to a skittish animal.

She pointed a bloody finger out back down the road into the 4077th. "Please come! They'll die! Please!"

"Now don't you worry," Colonel Potter said, also approaching, "we'll help you." She looked relieved, but still gave Hawkeye's arm another tug as though he might change his mind.

Hawkeye realized that the hand on his arm was shaking. It could be shock, nerves, heat stroke, adrenaline, a concussion, blood loss…the possibilities were endless. Regardless, she needed to rest, if only for a moment. He tugged her gently towards the mess tent. She made a small noise of panic and resisted. "It's all right. We're going to help you. Come inside for a minute while you tell us what's going on. We need to know how badly hurt your friends might be. I need you tell me everything that you can about their condition when you left them."

She allowed herself to be lead inside the mess tent. A small crowd had formed around them, but Potter and Mulcahy quickly shooed them away. The girl was skittish enough as it was. _Well,_ Potter mentally corrected himself, _she's not really a girl. She's probably Radar's age. Maybe a little older._ Potter and Mulcahy quickly entered the tent to find Hawkeye sitting next to her at a table while BJ sat across from her. She was speaking very rapidly. Hawkeye had gotten a large glass of water from the food line and was pressing her to drink. Though apparently desperately thirsty for water, she drank only about a third of the glass before resuming talking.

Hawkeye gently chided her. "Drink some more," he said, while pushing the glass closer. "It won't do your friends any good if you pass out before you can show us where they are and explain what's happened."

She hesitated, and then downed the whole glass. She paused for a moment, went a bit paler, and then turned and threw up. Hawkeye and BJ were by her side in an instant. A quick survey of the vomit told BJ and Hawkeye several things. She hadn't eaten in awhile. There was no solid matter in her vomit. There was only water and some blood. Hawkeye's concern ratcheted up several more notches. Vomiting blood was never a good thing. BJ rubbed her back in a soothing motion until she stopped vomiting. She sat up slowly with the help of BJ and Hawkeye who were on either side of her, holding her arms. Both men could feel her shaking through the thin layer of clothing she wore.

She wiped the back of a shaky hand against her mouth, took a deep breath, and said, "Sorry. I didn't mean to."

"It's all right." Potter said, smoothing back her tousled hair. "These things happen sometimes."

BJ looked at her and asked quietly, "Do you still feel sick?" She turned to look at him. She looked almost angry.

"There's no time for that now!" she said loudly. "My friends are dying! I'm fine." Had she not looked so serious, Hawkeye would have taken the opportunity to point out that she was clearly _not_ fine. Given her thunderous expression, however, he said nothing.

"Now tell us where they are," Potter said, gently coaxing the information from her.

She thought for a moment and said, "They're to the west, not too far from here. Two miles at the most." Potter nodded. Hawkeye and BJ had moved back a bit to give her some space since she was "fine", though she still looked ashen-faced.

"What can you tell us about their injuries?" Hawkeye pressed, knowing that every second was valuable.

"Chang Hee…his arm is…it was out of the socket, I was able to pop it back in and I stopped the bleeding, but it was…bad. He said he was cold. I think he was going into shock. And Kyung Mi, her head was bleeding. Her side looked…wrong. I think she broke several ribs. I tried to bind them for her, but I don't know if I did a good job or not."

Hawkeye gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and was dismayed to find that she was still shaking. "I'm sure you did a fine job. What happened to all of you?"

"Our village…it was bombed. We escaped during the bombing. I don't know who did it. We don't know what happened to anyone else. It was just us. And I – I, honest I did, I t-tried to take care of them."

BJ, reminded of his own daughter back home, pulled her quickly into a hug, and she didn't pull away. She trembled in his arms making a strange sort of gasping noise. She wasn't crying exactly, but the noise broke BJ's heart. She looked up, face free from the telltale signs of tears.

Father Mulcahy came and sat next to her and BJ. He looked kindly at her and said, "Everything will work out well. The Lord knows where your friends are, and he's watching over them." She gave a small, tremulous smile and stood up, unaided. After the others had introduced themselves, Mulcahy asked kindly, "What's your name?"

"Emily," she said quietly.

A voice from behind said, "Well, what are you living with the Koreans for? Those savages, they'd just as soon kill you as live with you." Frank "Ferret Face" Burns had appeared in the tent, apparently drawn to the mess tent by the gossip that was now flying around the camp. He had heard that a Korean supporter was in the camp. _First one of them as a decoy, and then an invasion!_ Frank thought. He needed to teach this kid what was what.

Emily looked angry. "I live with them because they're my friends. My father was a missionary. He came here to preach, but he died. I don't have any way to get back to the states, but the Koreans are kind and took me in. And now," she looked positively furious, "my village has been bombed, my friends are dying, and I need your help!"

Frank gave a condescending laugh. "Help your Korean friends, not likely buster. Those Koreans are a shifty bunch. You've got to be ready for anything they throw at you."

Emily's anger seemed to have reached a breaking point, for she strode up to Frank, and cold clocked him right in the jaw. Frank staggered backwards and hit the ground, unconscious. She smiled coldly and said, "Well, he wasn't ready for that." Hawkeye laughed, in both surprise and approval. The rest of the group look stunned. She swung back to face the rest of the group. "He was lying, wasn't he? You will help me, won't you?" The frantic look that Hawkeye had first seen in her eyes returned again.

"Of course we will," he said. "We just need to grab some medical supplies to help your friends." Hawkeye stood, stepped over Frank's body, and offered a friendly hand to Emily. She took it warily and was taken out of the mess tent towards what looked like the main building of the camp. "Radar!" Hawkeye hollered when they were within ten feet of the doors of the colonel's office. Hawkeye was through the doors in no time flat and found the young Corporal sitting at his desk.

"Yeah Hawk?" he asked casually. Then he looked up and saw that Hawkeye was accompanied by a girl about his age who was dirty, bloody, and shaking. "Oh gee!" Radar said, jumping up. "What happened?" Emily said nothing. She seemed to be in a momentary daze.

BJ came up behind the two of them and said, "She ran into camp looking for help for her friends. They're injured and a few miles outside camp. She asked us to help them." Hawkeye nodded. He guided Emily over to Radar's bed and, with a quick glance at Radar for approval, pushed her down to sit on it. She didn't resist or say anything. For someone who had been so fired up about leaving immediately only a few seconds ago, he was disconcerted by her lack of response.

"Radar," Hawkeye said, "Beej and I need to grab some things to take with us. Can you find Sergeant Zale and tell him that we're going to need two jeeps with stretchers, pronto?" Radar nodded and was about to leave the room. Hawkeye caught his arm as he went by and whispered quietly, "Don't take too long, I need you to come back and keep an eye on her. Let me know immediately if she seems any worse."

"Gosh," Radar said, "aren't you gonna take care of her now?"

"We can't," Hawkeye said grimly. "There's not time. It sounds like her friends are worse off than she is. At least she's still moving under her own power, and that's a good sign." Radar nodded and both men went their separate ways: Hawkeye to join BJ in collecting supplies and Radar to inform Zale of their need for jeeps.

Radar hurried back to find her still sitting on his bed, but this time Father Mulcahy and Colonel Potter were sitting with her. Colonel Potter was attempting to take a look at her leg and head wounds, but she kept squirming away.

Radar heard her say, "We need to go. You can do that later!"

The Colonel and the Father were clearly trying their best to keep her calm. It was clear she had suffered several shocks, both mental and physical, and neither man knew how long she would still be capable of leading them to her injured friends. Fortunately, the wait was short. Hawkeye and BJ emerged with several backpacks full of supplies. Emily stood briskly, her mission clear, and was the first out the door. Outside, near the gate, Zale had gathered two jeeps and Major Houlihan was waiting.

"Emily," Hawkeye said pointing at Margaret. "This is Major Margaret Houlihan. She's a nurse, and she's going to come with us." Emily nodded, and shot Houlihan an appreciative look, but said nothing.

Colonel Potter glanced at the group. BJ, Hawkeye, Major Houlihan, and Father Mulcahy had all agreed to go. Though they might need more help depending upon the seriousness of their patients' injuries; Potter had been reluctant to send any more personnel outside the safe confines of the 4077th. "Godspeed," he said quietly, though they all heard him.

Emily stood for a moment, unsure. She knew they needed to move quickly, but didn't seem to know where to go to be the least in the way.

Hawkeye took her arm and said, "You can ride up front with me." He walked with her over to the first jeep and was torn between whether or not he should offer her help getting into the jeep.

While it was clear that she was sick, tired, dehydrated, and injured, she kept insisting that she was fine. Asking if she needed help would likely be considered an affront to her pride. However, he was saved from asking the awkward question when she shook his arm off and hopped into the car with only a small amount of difficulty. Hawkeye knew that in desperate situations it was possible for the mind to shut down, to cut off all sense of pain, hunger, and thirst in order to focus entirely upon the situation at hand, cutting off all but the most basic of needs.

And it seemed that was what was happening in this case. He had no doubt that her current injuries would be enough to lay low someone on their own, without even considering a possible concussion, hunger, thirst, and the run that she had apparently made to the camp. They would need to tend to her as soon as possible once they returned. He knew that the surges of fear and panic induced adrenaline would not last much longer and the pain would return.

BJ and Father Mulcahy hopped into the second jeep while the supplies and Margaret were settled into the back of their jeep. Emily tugged on Hawkeye's sleeve, still looking desperate. "Let's go, I'll show you where they are!"

Hawkeye made some signals to the other jeep to indicate that he would be taking the lead with Emily directing him. Within moments, they were on their way out of the compound. Mercifully, the roads they took were clear of snipers and shelling. Though heavily potholed, they were able to proceed relatively quickly along the way that Emily directed. Her face seemed paler, hot, and dry. Whenever they hit a pothole, Hawkeye saw her tense slightly, lips thin, expression guarded.

"I'm sorry that the road isn't smoother," Hawkeye said. He wasn't sure why he was apologizing. It wasn't his fault that the shellings had pockmarked the road this way, nor could he do anything about the road's current state. However, he felt the need to apologize since it was clear that she was suffering in silence along their journey.

She gave a half shrug as if to say, "It's not your fault." She didn't speak except to give the next directions.

After driving for several minutes, Hawkeye said, "This is farther from two miles from camp."

Emily shrugged; she looked rather embarrassed. "I was…confused. It was hard to keep track of how far I'd gone, but I know we're going in the right direction. They aren't much further."

A few minutes later, she hollered for him to stop and had jumped out the jeep before he had even stopped, narrowly avoiding being hit by BJ and Father Mulcahy's jeep. Hawkeye heard her yell something and sweep her hand in a wave, indicating that they should follow. She hurried down an embankment at the side of the road. She was moving more slowly than she was before, so it wasn't hard for the others to catch up with her. Hawkeye and BJ, both carrying packs, positioned themselves on either side of her.

"I helped them over here." She said, quickening her pace just a bit, "I left them under the trees with water and some supplies so that they wouldn't…" she trailed off, but Hawkeye and BJ knew what she would have said.

The three heard a cry from behind. Father Mulcahy had spotted the two Koreans. Two prone figures lay under a tree only a few hundred feet away. Emily quickened her pace more, determined to get help safely to her friends. She hurried up to the Korean boy and spoke, "Chang Hee," she said, feeling for his pulse.

He was nonresponsive. He seemed unaware that anyone was even there. Her heart jumped into high gear as she moved over to the Korean girl. "Kyung Mi," she said, once again feeling for a pulse. She stirred slightly, but didn't seem aware enough to be capable of speech or much movement.

Hawkeye and BJ silently set to work. Hawkeye and Margaret began working on Chang Hee, who seemed to be worse off than Kyung Mi, while BJ examined Kyung Mi.

Their work was fast and efficient, though it quickly became clear that this was no place to deal with such extensive injuries. Emily could tell that they were struggling to keep her friends alive. Father Mulcahy, not usually accustomed to helping with actual triaging, hung back from the doctors. Emily stepped back, looking bewildered. Father Mulcahy moved closer to her and began to murmur reassurances. He took her hand and could feel hot, dry skin and a fast pulse. He thought about calling Hawkeye or BJ to come take a look at her, but since she had gone to such extents to get her friends help, he was sure that she would not want a moment wasted on herself when the doctors could be helping her friends.

Father Mulcahy guided her silently to the ground, and he sat next to her. He put his arm around her in a comforting gesture and began silently praying for the well being of her friends. She put her head on his shoulder, and he could feel her trembling all over. He pulled back enough to look at her face. She was clearly not doing well. Father Mulcahy asked quietly if she was all right. She looked morosely at her friends and murmured, "Will they…die?" Mulcahy gave a kind smile.

"They're with the best doctors in all of Korea, and it seems that you didn't leave them alone for long. Those are both good signs –," The Father was cut off by a yell from BJ.

"She's not breathing! I've lost the pulse!"

_So, what did you think? Do you like the story and the characters that I've created? I really appreciate reviews of any kind – positive or negative. They encourage me to keep writing. If I get some positive feedback, then I'll continue writing and post some more. Thanks!_


	2. Survival

_Hi guys! Thanks so much for the reviews and story alert emails that I got! It was so nice to know that people like it! I'd really appreciate it if everyone who reads/favorites the story would leave a review. Hearing the readers' thoughts and opinions is the best part for the author! Also, just so no one is confused, I'm resubmitting the content in chapter one because I found a few mistakes. So, if you get a new chapter content alert for chapter one, that's why. Also, I'm editing the title to "The Best Care Anywhere". That was the original title, but something happened and I put the wrong title in. Whoops. Finally, A MILLION thanks to my beta reader Ladyhawke Legend. She's a very busy lady, but still finds time to beta my stories and make them SO much better! She rocks my socks!_

Mulcahy felt Emily go very still next to him. Her concentration was so intense that even the shaking, which had seemed uncontrollable, stopped for a split second. A moment later, she was shaking again, and Mulcahy realized that she had no control over it. It was likely nerves or shock. He had intended to pull her closer to him, to tell her quietly that God was watching over them always, but she had squirmed out of his grip before he could.

She was beside BJ and Kyung Mi in an instant. Her friend's face was pale and slack. She wasn't moving. Since there wasn't a second nurse, Emily moved in to help. "I can help!" she said frantically. "Just show me what to do!"

BJ nodded. Allowing Emily to help care for her friends would likely be the best thing for her mentally. She would be helping with their healing, a task that was likely to improve her own spirits as well.

"When I tell you to," he said, "press regularly up and down on her chest – here." He pointed to right over Kyung Mi's heart. "Put your hands like this." He demonstrated, putting one hand over the other in something resembling an "x". She nodded, and BJ scooted up to Kyung Mi's head. He put his mouth over hers and began breathing in and out for her, forcing breath into her lungs. He didn't move from his crouched position, but instead gestured that she should do what he had told her. She pressed up and down on Kyung Mi's chest. She kept going until BJ gestured again that she should stop. He bent farther forward once again and gave two more breaths to Kyung Mi.

He was about to gesture to Emily that she should begin more compressions when there was a slight movement, and then a shuddering gasp from Kyung Mi. He looked at her chest, relieved to see its rise and fall. He felt for her pulse and was relieved to find it, steady if not somewhat weak. He looked back at Emily. She looked on the verge of either throwing up or crying. He couldn't tell which.

Next to the two of them, Hawkeye and Margaret seemed to have stabilized Chang Hee. His shoulder joint was swollen, but Emily had indeed managed to properly rotate it back into joint. It would be sore and stiff, and he'd need a sling for awhile to be sure that it didn't dislocate again while the weakened muscles regained their strength. He had a stomach wound that Emily hadn't mentioned. Hawkeye had distinctly heard her saying something how she had "stopped the bleeding", but he had assumed that it had been in conjunction with the dislocation of the shoulder. There was a fair deal of shrapnel in the wound, but Hawkeye had been able to remove most of it. The Korean boy was stable – for now. Though it was likely that he would go into shock – if he wasn't in shock already – if they couldn't get him back to OR soon.

Margaret was an excellent nurse and they were doing well, but the conditions were far from ideal. The site was so far from ideal that it was laughable. The two were ready to move Chang Hee to the jeep. Now, all they needed was the stretcher. Looking over at BJ, he took in the fact that his patient also seemed stable and noticed the direction of BJ's gaze. He was looking at Emily, who looked just about as awful as Chang Hee and Kyung Mi.

Hawkeye stood, told Margaret that he would get the stretcher and be right back, and walked over to Emily. Perhaps being given something to do would help to pull her out of her stupor. He knelt next to her. "Emily, your friends are going to be fine." He smiled kindly, playing well the act of the bald-faced liar. While her friends were stable for the moment, he had no idea whether either one of them would survive the bodily shock of taking the potholed road back to the 4077th. "They're doing well, but we've got to get them back to the 4077th. We need to get the stretchers. Will you help me?" He spoke quietly and calmly, clearly seeing that she was rattled.

She nodded, and he hooked his hands under her arm, helping her to her feet. She waivered on her feet unsteadily, but he was there, supporting her from behind. She took several steadying breaths and then pulled carefully away from Hawkeye.

She turned and walked back toward the jeeps and Hawkeye followed. BJ and Margaret exchanged worried looks. Hawkeye came up next to her and put an encouraging hand on her shoulder. "You did well back there," he said quietly.

She nodded once, acknowledging his compliment, but she neither broke her stride nor said anything. They reached jeeps and Hawkeye paused for a moment. He grabbed Emily's arm and pulled her around so that she was facing him. There was such a flurry of emotion on her face for a split second that Hawkeye wondered how she could tolerate it all. Then, as quickly as it was there, it was gone – replaced with a careful mask of neutrality and stoicism. Hawkeye knew it was a defense mechanism. But with the situation being so dire, this was neither the time nor the place to discuss her feelings.

He instructed her to take the far end of the stretcher. She did so, and they carried it over to the other. By stacking one on top of the other, they could get both stretchers back to the trees twice as fast. They weren't really heavy, but Hawkeye worried that Emily wouldn't have the strength remaining to carry them. However, she carried her share of the load with apparent ease.

As they walked, she spoke so quietly that Hawkeye almost missed it. "Thank you for…you know…helping them. And even if – if they don't…" she trailed off, cleared her throat, and continued. "Even if they don't make it, I really appreciate you trying to help them," she said, all in one breath as though she might not be capable of saying it unless she got it over with as quickly as possible.

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. You saved their lives," he said and paused to let that thought sink in. Indeed, it seemed to hearten her a bit; her complexion was brighter than before, and she even smiled.

She helped set one stretcher next to Chang Hee and one next to Kyung Mi. On a count of three, the doctors carefully transferred their patients from the ground to the stretchers. Hawkeye and Margaret took either end of Chang Hee's stretcher while BJ and Father Mulcahy grabbed either end of Kyung Mi's stretcher. Emily moved in to help carry a stretcher, but BJ shook his head sternly and told her that he didn't want her exacerbating any of her injuries by helping. She looked as though she might protest, but didn't. Though that quickly sorted out the issue of who would carry whom, her lack of a fight worried BJ. She seemed to him like the type of person who would only stop fighting only when she was very sick…or dead.

The group headed with quick precision back to the jeeps. Hawkeye and Margaret loaded Chang Hee into the back of their jeep. Margaret sat with the wounded man while Hawkeye jumped in the driver's seat. BJ and Father Mulcahy placed Kyung Mi carefully into the back of their jeep. BJ assumed the driver's seat and instructed Father Mulcahy specific things to watch for in their patient. If he saw any of the things that BJ described, he needed to know immediately about it.

Emily crowded into the back of the jeep with Kyung Mi and Father Mulcahy. The trip back to the 4077th was slower going than it had been coming. The doctors were too afraid of jarring their patients' fragile lives, which were hanging in the balance, to go very fast.

Sitting in the back, Father Mulcahy noticed that Emily looked distinctly unwell. Though it was hot outside, she seemed to be sweating more than anyone else. She sat deadly still, barely breathing. Father Mulcahy leaned closer. "Emily?" he called softly, "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Father. I'm fine," was the broken record response.

"Funny, you don't look 'fine'," He said, eyeing her more closely.

She opened her eyes and said quietly, "It's just that I've got a bit of a stitch in my side from all that running. It's a bit slow going away." Though not pleasant, Mulcahy knew that the cramps which resulted from running were not life threatening. It was clear that she had run a long way to help her friends and find the 4077th – Mulcahy estimated about five miles – so he didn't press the issue.

Sooner than Emily had thought possible, they were pulling through the gate into the 4077th. A bustle of activity surrounded the jeeps. Hawkeye and Margaret both jumped from the vehicle and had Chang Hee headed into the OR in record time. BJ, who called for the assistance of Klinger, followed shortly behind them. Father Mulcahy was left to scrub up so that he could perform his customary duty of watching over the patients in surgery.

Emily sat in the jeep for a few moments after most of the people had left. She dimly saw Colonel Potter and Radar exit the office and walk towards the jeep, but her mind was elsewhere. As the full realization of the events of the last hours hit her, her shaking resumed – more forcefully than before. She suddenly realized an urgent need to be sick. She jumped out of the jeep, but her legs could no longer support her. Her knees buckled, and she hit the dirt on her knees. Radar and Potter were on either side of her with a speed that would have guaranteed them first place in the M*A*S*H Olympics.

"Easy now, sweetheart," Colonel Potter said soothingly. "We've got you now."

She tried to pull away. At their insistent hold, she murmured, "Sick…going…be sick," Colonel Potter understood her pleas. Luckily, they weren't far away from a foxhole, so with the help of Radar, Potter quickly and efficiently led her over to it. She fell to her knees and began retching. There was nothing left in her stomach but some bile. Quickly, her attempts to throw up transformed into dry heaves, which themselves quickly ceased. Less than a minute later it was over. She hung limply in the grip of the two for a moment, but then she was able to sit up under her own power. She looked at them gratefully and said, "Thanks…sorry,"

"Gosh," Radar said, "being sick isn't anything to apologize for. You can't help it!"

Potter nodded and said, "Listen to the boy, he's right."

Still, she felt embarrassed and ashamed, like a child incapable of controlling even the most basic of bodily functions. She pushed herself up so she was standing, and though she wavered slightly, she once again seemed in control of herself. She strode toward the office, looking back to make sure that the two men would understand. It wasn't a lack of gratefulness at their actions. She just needed to see the surgery herself - needed to know that her friends were being cared for. She entered Post-Op and attempted to peer through the window. However, the window was a bit higher than she could comfortably look through. It would be more comfortable if she could stand on something.

She peered around and found a small footstool that the doctors and nurses sometimes used when getting things up and down from the highest shelves in the cabinets. That would do. She pulled it over to the door and climbed up onto it. She could see Hawkeye and Margaret were working silently over Chang Hee. BJ and another nurse were working on Kyung Mi. (Frank had flat out refused to work on "the enemy" and Potter had been on the verge of accusing him of insubordination. But there was much to be done and little time with which to accomplish it – and Frank wasn't really a great surgeon anyway, so Potter temporarily had let the matter slip.)

Hawkeye, who has facing the doors to Post-Op while working on Chang Hee's stomach wound saw her face appear in the window. Her face was smudged with dirt and worry. Someone – preferably Potter – should be taking a look at her he thought, but it was clear that her dedication to her friends ran deep. Most likely, she wouldn't allow herself to be treated until she was sure one way or the other about the fate of her friends. Hawkeye paused in cleaning out the remaining shrapnel long enough to make eye contact with her and give her a reassuring thumbs up. She smiled and thumbed back.

Hawkeye could see Potter's hat appear in the other window; presumably he was telling her to let him take a look at her injuries. He saw Emily shake her head and return her gaze through the window. Potter's hat left, though Potter couldn't have gone far for the hat appeared once again in the window. He handed her a glass of water, which she took without resistance or complaint. She sipped it slowly while looking through the window.

It didn't take long to complete the actual surgeries – perhaps half an hour at most. They had already completed much of their work out in the field before returning to the 4077th. Now they were able to sterilely remove the remaining shrapnel, stitch shut wounds, and set up IV lines of plasma, blood, and antibiotics. Hawkeye felt confident that if the two could make it through the first twenty-four hours, they shouldn't have a problem surviving their injuries.

BJ finished at roughly the same time Hawkeye did. Emily, convinced that her friends were stable at least for the moment and finagled by Potter into moving back from Post-Op and into Radar's office so she wouldn't be in the way, the doctors were able to take their patients into Post-Op. The two doctors paused only long enough to remove their bloody scrubs before entering Radar's office.

Potter had just settled Emily down enough to get her to sit on Radar's bed when the two men entered. Emily jumped up at the sight of them, looking anxious. "How…how are they? Did it go well? Did you –", but Hawkeye cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"The surgery went well," BJ said kindly. "I think your friends have a very good chance of surviving their injuries. But, the next twenty-four hours will tell us for sure." She looked relieved and relaxed almost imperceptibly.

"I tried to convince her to let me look at her," Potter said, "but she wouldn't let me do a darn thing. Said she wanted to watch and make sure it went well."

"Please don't talk about me as if I'm not here," she said in a small voice. "I'm not dead, and I'm not deaf. I'm –"

She had been intending to say that she was fine, but once again Hawkeye cut her off. "You are _not_ fine," he said sternly, "You're about as far from fine as Frank is from being a good surgeon." That earned him a small smile, so he pressed the advantage and continued, "Now, we've taken care of your friends. Now I need you to let us do our jobs and take care of you."

She nodded once. Hawkeye gestured for her to sit back down on Radar's bed. "Radar, do you mind if she sits here?" Hawkeye pressed the company clerk.

"Well gee, of course not," he said, looking worried. He thought that the new girl was quite attractive. Under all the mud, blood, and worry it was clear that she had a nice body. Strong legs and arms, slender middle, and a chest that made Radar nearly blush just by glancing at it.

"Now, I need you to honestly tell me what hurts," Hawkeye said, looking her straight in the eyes so that he might have a better chance of knowing if she was lying or hiding something from him.

"My leg," she said quietly, gripping the appendage. She wore three-fourths length pants, the right leg of which was soaked with blood. Most of the blood appeared to be dry, so Hawkeye couldn't be sure whether or not it was her blood or the blood of her friends. Hawkeye helped her maneuver her right leg onto the bed. _Radar's gonna need to change his sheets later_, Hawkeye thought regretfully. She laid back, head against the wall, while Hawkeye and BJ examined the wound.

BJ knew it wasn't good. The wound was deep – at least an inch into her leg, and it was long. He guessed that the cut ran for about eight inches in the fleshy side of her calf. It began an inch or so below the side of her knee and ran to only an inch or two above her ankle. It would be awhile before she could regain all the mobility of the limb without pain. The skin around the wound was inflamed and hot to the touch. "An infection," BJ murmured. She would need IV antibiotics. Emily said nothing.

Potter moved to feel her face. It was flushed and warm. She easily had a high temperature. "I need to look at your head," Hawkeye said. Emily didn't protest, and BJ sat down on the bed so that he could put his hands behind her to help her up. She gave such a sharp gasp of pain while being helped to sit up, that both doctors were immediately on guard.

"What is it?" BJ asked, trying to assess the full extent of her injuries without being obvious. "What's wrong?"

"My…side..." was the strained reply.

Father Mulcahy, who had since followed the men into Radar's office after blessing the patients in Post-Op said, "Is your side _still_ bothering you?"

Hawkeye whipped around to face the priest. "What do you mean 'still'?"

"She complained of pain in her side when we were driving back here. She said it was just a stitch in her side from running so far that was taking awhile to go away."

BJ saw Emily nod, looking miserable. "I've gotten cramps before when running. They just usually...go away faster than this."

"Which side hurts? Closer to your left hand or your right?" Hawkeye asked urgently, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Right," she answered hoarsely. Hawkeye had a bad feeling that his suspicions were correct.

"I need to look at your side," Hawkeye said. She nodded slowly, and BJ helped her to lie down. Hawkeye bent over, pulling her shirt up to her ribs and the side of her pants down to her hip. Radar was hard pressed not to look. He stole a few glances at her and was convinced of it – she was beautiful. Hawkeye began pressing gently around on her right side. He started up high and worked his way down lower, praying that it wasn't going to play out like he thought it was. He pressed down gently on the skin not far from her hipbone, removed his fingers, and was rewarded with such a sharp cry of pain that he could have no doubt in his mind.

In pain, tired, and sick, Hawkeye's pushing down on that sore spot that she had been desperately trying to ignore was the last straw. She yelped and pulled away from him, quickly curling into a fetal position on her right side. Her hands had protectively wrapped themselves around her middle before Hawkeye could do any more poking and her eyes were clenched shut. She could feel herself shaking, but couldn't stop it.

"Appendicitis," Hawkeye said grimly, "and it's bad,"

Hawkeye heard Radar gasp. He recalled the warmth he felt from the skin he had palpitated above the small organ. They needed to get her to the OR. However, she had curled herself so tightly into a ball that they wouldn't be able to get her safely onto a stretcher.

Radar and Potter scrambled out of the room to get a stretcher. Father Mulcahy put a friendly hand on her arm and began to pray for her safety._ Her father dead, village destroyed…To die after saving the lives of her friends_, he thought, _surely a soul can only handle so much injustice._

"Emily," BJ said, attempting to make eye contact with her, but her eyes were tightly clenched shut. He put a cool hand on her face. Her breathing was shallow and ragged. "Hawkeye and I need to operate on you. You have appendicitis. I don't know if you know what that means or not, but it means that an organ in your body has stopped working right. We need to remove it before you get even sicker. I need you to straighten out for me so that we can lift you onto a stretcher."

BJ put his hand on her arm and leaned in, listening for a response. "I…ca…can't," she gasped out. She was going into shock. "H-hurts," she said in a whisper.

"I know it does," BJ reassured, stroking her hair, "but we're going to take care of that. Let me help you. We'll straighten you out as slowly as possible so it doesn't hurt so much." She gave a small nod and BJ looked at Hawkeye before saying, "Hawk is going to help you straighten out your legs." There was no response from her, but BJ nodded anyway. Hawkeye slowly and carefully pulled her legs out and away from her. BJ then rolled her carefully onto her back. Radar and Potter were back with the stretcher. BJ checked her pulse. It was erratic and faint. Her breathing was still shallow and rapid.

"Emily," Hawkeye said, "I need you to try and breathe slowly and deeply." He could see that she was trying to accommodate his request, but she was barely cognizant of what was going on, lost in a haze of pain and exhaustion.

"On a count of three, we'll lift you onto the stretcher. One, two, THREE", BJ said, and the two men carefully deposited her onto the stretcher held by Radar and Potter. "Take her into Pre-Op and get her prepped," Hawkeye ordered. "Beej and I will scrub up and be there in a minute."

Indeed, the two men were very fast and had joined the group before Potter had even had a chance to administer some sedative. None of them was sure of the extent of her head injury. She hadn't seemed too confused, and she had been mostly capable of functioning independently the entire time that she had been with them. However, knowing that the surgery would be long and painful without sedation, and knowing that they would also need to clean and stitch her leg and head wounds, Potter decided that sedation was for the best. They would have to hope that her head injury was not too serious.

BJ saw glassy, pain glazed, grey eyes looking up at him. He took her hand and leaned in. He heard her struggling to speak. "Am I going to…going to…", she didn't seem to have the strength left to finish the sentence.

"No, you're not," BJ said firmly. "Hawk and I will take good care of you. You'll be just fine in no time."

She smiled and said faintly, "Thanks."

BJ nodded to Potter to administer the sedative. He saw her eyes slowly close as though she were fighting the medicine, and then all she knew was blissful unconsciousness.

_Again, please guys, let me know if you like this story and want me to post more. Thanks for reading!_


	3. Radar's Epiphany

_Thanks so much to everyone who's been following the story. I'd really appreciate it if everyone who reads the story would leave just a quick review. It's really quite fun reading the reviews. My apologies for the delay in posting this. I was away on vacation for awhile and then was busy celebrating both my sister's birthday and own. Throw into that the fact that I needed an emergency root canal, that I had to have back x-rays, and that my wireless internet connection has been spotty and hopefully you can forgive me. Also, a thousand and one thanks to my lovely beta, Ladyhawke Legend. She is so patient and really helps me out. Thanks so much for reading!_

**Chapter 3**

Consciousness returned slowly, almost reluctantly. Emily felt like she was floating in a haze. There was no pain – just a wall of nothingness. As she became more aware of her surroundings, Emily realized that she was lying on something soft. After a few moments, her weary brain registered that it was a bed. It had been a long time since she had last been in anything that could qualify as a real bed.

Shortly after, she realized her head felt strange while her leg felt stiff and heavy. Without opening her eyes, she slowly moved one hand, and then the other, wiggling all of her fingers. Something was wrapped around her left hand, a bandage of some sort. Once she was sure that her arms were uninjured, she moved to wiggling her toes and ankles. Moving the left leg was fine, but trying to move her right sent a jolt of pain up her leg. It caught her off guard, stealing her breath. Then it was gone as quickly as it had come, as though it were a phantom.

She lay there quietly, taking stock of herself without much movement. Emily was having a hard time remembering what had happened to her. She had obviously been injured, and now she was lying in a bed – she knew that much. But what circumstances had occurred to bring her to this point in time, she couldn't remember. It was possible that she had been captured by the enemy – though since she didn't clearly identify with either side, it was impossible to know who the enemy might be. Suddenly, all her memories came flooding back to her, and in a moment of stunning clarity, the full weight of the events of the last hours came crashing down upon her. Her grief was deep and ragged, an aching hole. She took things slowly, processing her memories and coming to a complete realization of the situation.

However, her own sadness was pushed abruptly aside as a new, more urgent memory made itself known. She remembered Chang Hee and Kyung Mi lying on the ground, motionless. Their faces pale white, blood all over – on herself, on the ground, on them. These thoughts sent -her moving with a speed she had not thought herself capable of. She sat bolt upright - and then immediately regretted it. Pain blossomed from her middle, while the pain in her head left her dizzy and confused.

"Hey now, easy, easy," came a soothing voice. "It's all right. Just relax."

She felt hands helping her to lie back down. The hands were cool and soft, comforting. For a split second, her first thought was that it was her father, but she soon remembered that he was dead. She cracked open her eyes and was able to keep them open long enough to see that it was BJ before she was forced to shut them again. The ceiling and the floor kept slipping out of their places, and BJ's face had done some slow loop-de-loops.

Emily felt hot and confused. It took a few moments for her to realize that BJ had a cool hand on her face. She felt the hand trail down to her throat, resting on her pulse point for a moment. She could feel her own heart hammering wildly in her chest and knew that BJ wouldn't be happy with what he found.

"Emily, you're safe now. There's nothing to worry about." The cool hands worked calmly but efficiently, checking her head, side, and leg. Her leg was still swollen and tender to the touch. She tried to pull it away when BJ inspected it, but found that she didn't have the strength to do much more than open her eyes.

BJ saw her looking hazily at him, and he smiled. "Welcome back," he said warmly. "How are you feeling?"

She paused for a moment, considering BJ's question. "Hot, tired, my head is…spinny…can't see straight. Pain..side…leg's stiff," she murmured out.

"Well, that's all normal," BJ said quietly. "You had a bit of a rough time for a while there, but you're doing better. You're going to be just fine."

As far as Emily was concerned, that was all well and good. Learning about the fate of Kyung Mi and Chang Hee was more important, however. She attempted to sit up again.

"It's probably not a good idea to move too much," BJ said. She could only manage to half prop herself up on one elbow, but she showed no signs of giving up her attempt.

BJ sighed. "If you're going to do that, let me put some pillows behind you. Then you can sit up without putting too much strain on your stitches." He reached behind himself for more pillows, and then added the pillows onto the bed until she was semi-reclining. "Better?" he asked.

She smiled appreciatively. BJ took her hand gently. "Chang Hee, Kyung Mi, are they still…still here?" she asked in a small voice.

"They're doing fairly well," answered another voice. Emily turned to find Hawkeye coming into Post-Op. He sat down on the edge of her bed and started checking her wounds like BJ had just done. Satisfied with what he found, he continued, "The swelling's down in Chang Hee's shoulder. I was able to get all the shrapnel out of his stomach. He's stable for the moment, but he hasn't woken up yet. Kyung Mi has a severe concussion most likely, but we stitched up the cut on her head and taped her ribs. Only one rib was really broken. Several others were cracked. Ribs heal quickly, so long as they're properly bound. Overall, I think they're doing well."

As Hawkeye spoke, Emily's eyes wandered. Two sheet-covered lumps could be seen across the aisle. Neither lump was moving much, only the rhythmic up and down of their breathing showed. Just seeing them there and breathing was a relief. She couldn't seem to tear her eyes away.

She felt a hand under her chin, and her head was turned to look at Hawkeye. "Emily," he said, louder than she thought necessary.

"Yes?"

The look on his face told her that he had been talking to her steadily as her mind had wandered. He had probably been expecting some sort of response from her and was worried that he hadn't gotten one. At the questioning look in his eyes she said, "I'm sorry. My mind was…I wasn't…I was lost in my thoughts…"

Hawkeye smiled warmly, and then straightened up, looking a bit more serious. "I need to do a test to see if you have a concussion. I'll need your help, okay?"

She gave a small nod. Hawkeye held her chin and said, "Follow my finger with your eyes only." He held up his pointer finger and slowly moved it back and forth in front of her face. Hawkeye watched her carefully. Her eyes were able to follow his finger, even if they were a bit slow. That was a good thing – she was slowly improving. "You're doing fine," he said kindly.

"I feel so tired," she said, shaking her head slightly as though attempting to clear it.

BJ squeezed her hand and said, "Well, that's part of having a head injury. Plus, you have an infection and are on heavy medication. All of those things will make you feel a little strange for awhile."

Emily looked blearily between the two of them, and then over to her friends. She looked back. "Hey, thanks…for everything," she murmured.

"Any time," Hawkeye said, standing up. "Now get some sleep, doctor's orders!" He tweaked her nose and was gone.

BJ stood up and said, "If you need anything, you can always call me." He smiled kindly and adjusted the flow of pain medication to her IV, leaving quickly after that. It wasn't long before Emily was asleep.

The first few days passed uneventfully. Still battling an infection and healing from surgery, Emily only woke a few times a day. Each time was only for a short period, though BJ and Hawkeye both felt that she was more and more lucid every time, which was a good sign.

Kyung Mi had woken a few times, but was unstable and confused. More than once BJ had regretfully shaken Emily awake enough so that she could explain in Korean what was going on to Kyung Mi. Emily never seemed to mind, but both Hawkeye and BJ knew that Emily herself was still far from healthy and was in need of rest and calm if she was to properly recover.

Chang Hee's condition didn't change much, which worried Hawkeye. Since he had chiefly overseen Chang Hee's surgery, he knew the extent of his injuries – and none of them should have left him unconscious for so long. Though she never said anything directly to him, Hawkeye had a feeling that Emily knew that he wasn't doing well. However, she hadn't asked again about his condition, and Hawkeye thought it best not to volunteer the information given her own, still-healing condition.

Fortunately for their patients, the 4077th seemed to be going through a dry spell of wounded. There hadn't been any patients in over a week, which all the doctors and nurses appreciated – though they did find themselves a bit bored. Sooner or later, most of the doctors and nurses seemed to find their way into post-op to sit with Emily. Although she was accustomed to being a very independent person, she certainly seemed to appreciate the constant stream of visitors.

One late afternoon found Margaret sitting beside Emily's bed. The Head Nurse was checking Emily's pulse and blood pressure as had become their custom. As patients went, Emily was a fairly good one. She followed most of the doctors' orders and sat quietly through any medical procedure or check-up without a single complaint. But several of the staff had begun to notice that Emily still wasn't eating much, however, and since she was well on the road to recovery, it was important that she eat more regular, solid meals. Margaret knew that several of the others had chided her in a friendly way, gently reminding her to eat. It seemed that was no longer sufficient. Though she was a petite person to begin with, Margaret would guess that Emily had lost five or ten pounds within the time she had been recovering. Such weight loss was certainly not conducive to getting well, so Margaret intended to have a talk with Emily.

"Your heart rate and blood pressure are doing nicely," Margaret said as she wrapped up her stethoscope and the blood pressure cuff. Emily smiled. Margaret noticed that she still looked a bit tired. Though her mood was upbeat enough, it seemed that something was off; something that Margaret couldn't quite put her finger on. Rather than beat around the bush, Margaret cut straight to the point, "You know, you haven't been eating enough. Why not?"

Emily half-shrugged and said, "I'm eating enough."

Margaret shook her head and said, "No, you're not. You're losing weight."

"Well," Emily hedged, "I'm used to not eating a lot. Things weren't always easy, and I got used to only eating only a little and skipping meals when I needed to."

Though she didn't know much about what had happened during the period of time that Emily had been living in Korea, it had never occurred to Margaret that there might have been times when eating wasn't a possibility. It was something that personally she took for granted. There was always food in the mess tent – it might not seem like food, but it was there, and it was relatively nourishing.

Apparently sensing that more reprimands were coming, Emily used the fact that she had caught Margaret off guard and changed the subject. "So, I heard yesterday that you have a fiancée, what's he like?"

With the conversation turned to her favorite subject, Margaret forgot her reprimand. "Oh, Donald Penobscott!" she said rapturously. "Now, there's a _real_ man. He has the most amazing –"

"Ma'am?" came Radar's voice. "Colonel Potter would like to see you."

Radar peeked his head through the door into post-op. Emily smiled and waved. "Oh, yes of course," Margaret replied, suddenly business. She turned back towards Emily conspiratorially and said, "I'll tell you more about him later if you'd like."

Emily nodded, and Margaret left to see the colonel. Radar was hovering awkwardly by the doorway. "Don't be a stranger," Emily called genially. "Come on in, if you'd like." Radar looked pleased that she had asked him to come in. He came and sat by her bed. He hadn't even had a chance to speak however, when both Hawkeye and BJ came into post-op.

"Well, well, well," Hawkeye said, a mischievous look on his face, "what have we here? The two of you? Alone?" A wicked grin appeared, "Why Radar, you dog!" he finished gleefully. He sat down on the edge of Emily's bed, looked at BJ and said, "Oh Beej, our little boy is finally becoming a man."

BJ grinned and commented, "Well, better late than never."

Radar blustered, and his face flushed. "Would you guys knock it off?" He seemed to be embarrassed, as though he really _did_ think that he still wasn't a man.

Emily looked at Radar and said, "Aw c'mon, ignore 'em, Radar. They're just teasing. Besides, you're already a man."

He looked at her, surprised. "I am?"

"He is?" Hawkeye chorused.

"Sure," she responded. "Radar, there's an old Korean saying: 'To be a man, first you must act like one.'"

"Huh?" Radar shot her a confused look.

"It means that being 'a man' isn't something that just happens one day. You won't wake up one morning and suddenly be a man." Radar looked rather dejected at this, like he had been secretly hoping that something similar to that really _would_ happen.

Emily pushed on. "Being 'a man', it's not just a title, you know? It's a job, and with it comes certain responsibilities and expectations. In order to become a man, you first need to take care of those responsibilities and fulfill those expectations. Once you've done that, you aren't pretending to be a man, you really _are_ a man."

"But I don't know that I'm acting like a man…" Radar trailed off.

Emily gave an annoyed huff and said, "Don't be stupid. Of course you are. What do you think you do every day? Radar, I might not be as well educated as a lot of the people here, but it doesn't take a genius to see that you keep this place running. I haven't been here that long, but from what I've seen you do a lot. And even if they tease you sometimes, everyone around here really respects you and the work that you do. They've told me about all the stuff you do for them. They rely on you. You're competent, efficient, and hard working, you make sure the others are taken care of and only then do you take care of yourself. Those are all the qualities of a man. To be a man, you don't need to have sex or drink or get in a fight. Those things might change you, but they won't make you man – because you already are one."

Radar looked taken aback. His look of disbelief changed into a slow, small smile. "Gee," he mumbled, still looking embarrassed. He stood up and said, "Well, I gotta go do some more work." Though he hadn't directly acknowledged what she had said, there was certainly more of a spring in his step when he left than there had been before. Emily smiled, pleased.

She looked over at Hawkeye and BJ. Hawkeye was staring at her, mouth agape. BJ looked both pleased with what she had said and amused at Hawkeye's reaction.

"It was nice of you to say that," BJ said.

"I wasn't just being nice. I was telling him the truth."

"I know that," BJ responded, sitting down in the seat that Radar had vacated, "but I don't think that he ever really thought about what he does that way. Maybe he'll see things a little differently now."

Hawkeye nodded, and then cleared his throat, looking more serious. "Emily," he said, looking uncomfortable, "we need to talk with you."

Emily's face darkened, but she nodded. She leaned closer to the two men. Before Hawkeye could speak, she said, "It's about him, isn't it?" She nodded over to Chang Hee, who was still lying in bed in about the same position he had been for the past several days. If it weren't for that fact that the doctors and nurses periodically would move his arms and legs to prevent blood clots and sores, he wouldn't have moved at all.

"He's not doing well," she said quietly, looking at her hands. It was a statement, not a question. She knew.

"I'm afraid you're right," Hawkeye answered, looking sadly and somewhat wistfully at her. He didn't want to tell her. It wasn't fair. To have lived a life like hers, she was no stranger to suffering. Hawkeye felt angry and upset that she should have to suffer through more.

She locked eyes with him, every fiber of her being concentrating on him. Hawkeye opened his mouth, the words caught in his chest. Finally he said, "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do for him."

_Alright. I'll beg. Please review!_


	4. Decisions and Accidents

_Thanks so much everyone for continuing to read this. I really enjoy getting story/author favorite emails from the site. However, could you guys please just take a few seconds to review when you're done reading? I really enjoy getting reviews and they really encourage me to keep writing. Also, thank you so much to my super talented beta Ladyhawke Legend. She is wonderful!_

**Chapter 4**

Emily sat very still. Her face was impassive. She said nothing. Hawkeye cleared his throat and said, "Well, what I mean to say is, there isn't anything else that can be done for him here at the 4077th."

BJ watched Emily closely. Had he not been watching, he wouldn't have seen the flicker of emotion in her eyes. For a split second he saw anger and unhappiness which was replaced moments later by an unreadable look. "What's wrong with him?" she asked, her expression guarded. BJ had a feeling that she was still secretly hoping that whatever was wrong with Chang Hee might not actually be that bad. Unfortunately, she was wrong.

BJ leaned in closer and said, "We started to worry when he hadn't regained consciousness after the first day or so. We did a lot of testing and took some x-rays. The x-rays showed us that even though there wasn't any external trauma, Chang Hee must have had some kind of head trauma."

Hawkeye nodded and finished, "There's a small tear in some of the blood vessels in his brain. On its own the tear might not be a problem, but the blood vessels are bleeding into his brain. This is putting pressure on his brain. That's why he hasn't woken up yet. His brain can't function normally. We don't have the equipment or sanitary enough conditions here to do brain surgery."

Emily's mouth was slightly open. "So…so…," she murmured out slowly, "he might die?"

Hawkeye wanted to lie and say that of course that couldn't happen, but he knew she'd have nothing to gain by being lied to. She had made it clear that she trusted him and to tell her anything less than the truth – however painful it might be – would be a violation of that trust. "It's possible," he said quietly. Her face fell.

"But we don't know that will happen," BJ hastened to say. "What we're saying is, we can't treat Chang Hee here. We need to send him to Seoul. There's a hospital there with the proper equipment. Once they've completed the surgery, we'll know for sure. Until then, we'll have to wait and see."

"But maybe, if I had…if I had taken better care of him…I should have known …this wouldn't have happened if I'd looked more closely at him. It's my fault!" she stammered.

"No," BJ said firmly, pressing her hand to get her attention. "It's not."

"Yes it is!" she stated. "I took care of him, and I didn't see that there was anything wrong with his head. I should have."

Hawkeye didn't like where her train of thought was going. "All right," he said, taking a risk. "So, it's your fault. It's your fault that your village was bombed, it's your fault that your friends got hurt, and it's your fault that Chang Hee has a head injury."

"But I didn't…how could I have...," she blustered.

"The point that Hawkeye is trying to make," BJ cut in, understanding Hawkeye's tactic, "is that none of those things were your fault. Nor were they anything that was under your control. The only person that you can control in such a situation is yourself. Even if you had noticed somehow that Chang Hee had a head injury, what could you possibly have done about it?"

She seemed to consider this question carefully. After a moment she shrugged and said, "I don't know."

"There wasn't anything you _could_ have done," BJ confirmed. "There weren't any external signs that Chang Hee had a head injury. And even if there had been, in the wild, unsanitary conditions of the forest, you couldn't have risked anything. We can't even afford to risk it here – and we have far more preparation, experience, and supplies than you would've had. You did the right thing."

She nodded. There was a silence and then she said, "When will you take him?"

"To be honest," Hawkeye replied, "the sooner he can get to that hospital the better."

"Then what are we waiting for?" she asked.

An hour later, an ambulance had been readied for the trip. The medic inside the back of the ambulance was prepared to take care of Chang Hee on the trip to the hospital. Hawkeye and BJ had gone back into the post-op to get Chang Hee. The two men came out with the stretcher between them.

For the first time in many days, Emily had been allowed outside of post-op. She was definitely doing better and both men felt that it was important that she be allowed to properly say goodbye to her friend. She was leaning on a crutch, supporting most of her weight on her other leg. She could get around with crutches well enough, though Potter had a feeling that she was the type to push through recovery just a little too fast. He had intentionally waited longer than necessary to allow her to get out of bed. Then, even if she pushed the recovery quickly, it wouldn't be that much ahead of schedule anyway.

Two orderlies from the ambulance took the stretcher from BJ and Hawkeye, who had to take care of last minute preparations for Chang Hee's trip. While the two surgeons were making sure that paperwork checked out and that the correct medications were on board, Emily had a moment with Chang Hee.

As the orderlies stood holding him on the stretcher, she gazed down at his face. She tried to memorize every line and plane of his face. She wasn't sure that she would get to see it again.

Suddenly, she was struck with a memory of him. A sunny day, the sun glinted off his black hair. The three of them had been playing a ball game out in the field. She had been younger then. It was before the war, when things had been simpler. She remembered the day as clearly as a photograph. It was like a moment frozen in time. The sun was high in the sky, Chang Hee had turned towards her, he was just about to catch the ball that she had thrown, and he was laughing. His mouth was open and smiling widely. His eyes were glinting with pleasure.

For a split second, Emily saw that memory of Chang Hee superimposed over the Chang Hee who was currently lying on the stretcher. She was taken aback by how different he looked. Not just the bruises and scars left from their ordeal, but older and harder. She wondered if she looked the same – hard and careworn. It wasn't a thought she cared to ponder. A hand on her shoulder jerked her abruptly from her thoughts.

Colonel Potter was standing off to the side. "They're ready to take him now if that's all right."

She opened and closed her mouth soundlessly several times as if looking for the right words to say. Apparently she could find none, for she simply nodded.

The orderlies efficiently loaded Chang Hee into the back of the ambulance. In less than a minute, they had established an IV line. Emily watched as the backdoors closed and the ambulance drove away. She stood there, saying nothing. The ambulance drove away. It was little more than a dot on the horizon when she raised several fingers and gave a half-wave.

She sighed, still watching where the ambulance had been, but didn't move. Potter was watching her closely. BJ stepped up beside her and put an arm around her.

"How about getting something to eat?" BJ asked, in an attempt to distract her.

"No thanks," she said with a half-hearted smile. "I'm not really hungry." She turned and hobbled back into post-op without any complaints.

Sherm Potter was not pleased. The Korean boy had made it successfully to the hospital in Seoul. They were planning to operate, to siphon off the blood, and to repair the torn blood vessel within the hour. But at the moment, it wasn't his main worry. The Korean girl, Kyung Mi, despite her only semi-conscious condition had apparently realized that something was wrong. She had become incoherent and combative ever since Chang Hee had left. She had thrashed so violently on the bed that she had to be sedated. Emily had tried in vain to explain to her friend what was going on. Her words didn't seem to make a difference, no matter how many times she had tried to explain. She had received a bruised cheek for her troubles.

Sherm sighed through his nose. This wasn't something that any of them needed now, especially Emily. Having to go through such an initial ordeal was bad enough, having a dear friend most likely die was worse, and having her only remaining connection to her old life starting to lose her marbles was the very last thing that she needed. Though outwardly her demeanor remained cheerful enough, Sherm wasn't fooled. He had seen that look in her eyes when Chang Hee had left. He had asked her quietly several times since if she was all right, if she needed to talk. Both attempts had been gently, but firmly, rebuffed. Right now, there was nothing he could do about it.

Colonel Potter shooed Radar out of his office on the pretense that he needed a count of some of the things in the supply tent. Really, he just wanted some privacy. He got on the horn and placed a call. He waited impatiently as the minutes ticked by, and he was transferred from one operator to another and from one base to another. Finally, he found who he sought.

He heard the familiar voice on the line. "Sherm," Sidney Freeman said warmly, "What persuaded you to give me a call?"

"Well, I," Potter started, suddenly unsure if he was doing the right thing, "I have a patient or two that I think need to see you."

Though distance separated the two of them, Potter practically felt like he could see the man nodding in that practiced way to which he was accustomed. As Potter explained what had happened and the circumstances which had brought Emily and Kyung Mi into the 4077th, he felt more confident in his decision.

After Potter had finished, Sid said, "You did the right thing by calling me. I can be there tomorrow afternoon. I'm just about finished at this camp anyway." And so, the thing was settled. Potter passed on the information to Hawkeye, BJ, and Margaret so that the visit wouldn't come as a surprise. However, he did want them to act surprised when Sid Freeman finally did arrive. Potter had a feeling that Emily might be insulted that he would bring in a psychologist to see her. She was a no nonsense person, who didn't like a lot of fuss to be made on her account. To call in a psychiatrist specifically to see herself and Kyung Mi would certainly count as fuss in her mind.

The word quickly, but quietly, spread about Sid's arrival. Emily was eating more than she had been, but all the doctors agreed that it was still not enough for someone recovering from serious injuries. Her cuts were healing well, and she had been allowed to be up and outside for longer and longer periods of time, which she seemed to enjoy.

The next day Sidney arrived, just as he had promised. It was about lunchtime when he and his driver finally pulled up in camp. Hawkeye and BJ, who were just leaving the mess tent with a tray for Emily, met him at the jeep.

"Sid," Hawkeye said warmly as he attempted to awkwardly shake the psychiatrist's hand with one of his while balancing the tray in the other hand.

BJ also greeted Sidney affectionately. The two men had worked with him on many occasions previously. He was an intelligent and perceptive man. He did his job well, and their patients were always much better off after seeing Sidney. Neither one doubted that Potter had done the right thing in calling him in.

"So," Sid said conversationally, leaning against the side of the jeep, "where're these patients of yours that you want me to see?"

Hawkeye gestured to post-op with a stab of his thumb. "We're just taking one of them a tray." Since Potter had already explained everything, there was no need for Hawkeye or BJ to undertake the laborious process of discussion of patient history and condition. The three men entered post-op. Kyung Mi was laying silently on her bed, an IV line dripping steadily. Emily was sleeping upside-down on her stomach, one arm thrown over the pillow, the other hanging off the bed.

BJ had scolded her several times about sleeping like that. It wasn't good for circulation, for her back, or for her wounds. But, apparently it was comfortable for her, because she always seemed to end up in that same position. (He was never sure if she did it intentionally to annoy him or unintentionally while she slept, but it really didn't matter which.) For a moment, the men stood watching Emily. She slept calmly, dressed in a pair of sweats and a green army surplus t-shirt. She had insisted shortly after she was conscious that sleeping in a hospital gown was uncomfortable, and she had been presented with some of the clothes from storage as well as a sweatshirt from BJ and a spare robe from Hawkeye.

After some brief discussion, the three men decided to retire to the tent until one or both of the girls woke up. There was nothing beneficial to be gained by intentionally wakening them. Hawkeye told the nurse on duty to keep a special eye out and notify all of them when either girl showed signs of waking. Hawkeye left the tray near Emily's bed, and then all three of them left.

The three had only been in the Swamp for a short while however when Radar rushed in looking frantic. "Sirs!" he spluttered. "It's Kyung Mi, she's losing it again!"

He raced out back towards post-op, and all three doctors were quick on his heels. The sight that greeted the three of them upon entering was not a pleasant one. Kyung Mi was twisting and writhing on the bed. A fine sheen of sweat covered her body. Her gown was sticky with perspiration. She was yelling something that was clearly not in English. She was being held down by Emily, who was trying to restrain her without hurting her, while the on-duty nurse retrieved a syringe full of sedative. Apparently, the previous batch had worn off. Emily was yelling something in Korean, but Kyung Mi didn't seem to understand or hear what she was saying, since her thrashing continued with the same fevered frenzy.

BJ was worried about Kyung Mi. True, Kyung Mi was acting strangely, but she was in an unfamiliar place, injured, in pain, and surrounded by strangers, and that was likely to be quite frightening. Add to that, all that they had been through, and the instinct to fight for survival would be only natural. He also worried for Emily. While restraining Kyung Mi was very important so that she wouldn't hurt herself, it was possible that Emily would be reinjured in her weakened state.

Hawkeye knocked over the on-duty nurse, grabbing the syringe from her hand. However, his actions were too late. Kyung Mi's thrashing had pulled Emily off balance. With her leg still healing, she was having trouble regaining her balance. As Emily attempted to get her footing back, one of Kyung Mi's sweat-slicked fists slipped out of her tenuous grasp. It flew wide and hit Emily solidly in the side. Emily went down like a pole axed steer. She lay on the floor gasping and clutching her side.

As Hawkeye subdued Kyung Mi with the sedative, BJ and Sidney rushed to Emily's side. Her face was white, her fingers wrapped protectively over the stitches from her appendectomy. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her whole form shuddering.

"Emily," BJ called loudly, as the yells and shaking from Kyung Mi subsided. She didn't answer. He pulled at her hands, attempting to break through the death grip she had on her side.

She opened her eyes enough to look through pain-induced tears at him. She gasped, "I…can't…breathe!"

BJ took control, pulling her hands aside. "It's okay," he said reassuringly, leaning close to examine the stitches. Several stitches had snapped, ripping healing skin. They would need to be fixed immediately. He gave the rest of her a quick once over. She seemed to be otherwise unhurt.

Emily was still struggling to breathe. Her hands were shaking and had some blood on them. She blinked rapidly attempting to clear her vision. She struggled out, "I think…I just got the wind…knocked out of me. I'll be…fine." Her eyes wandered over to Sid, who was standing awkwardly nearby. He wanted to help, but was unsure what to do. It was true he was a doctor, but he was a doctor of the mind, unfamiliar with what to do in a physical crisis. He was afraid that by getting closer he might hamper BJ's work.

Emily looked questioningly at him, silently asking who he was. She had met everyone in camp by that point and was doubtless curious about who this newcomer might be. Hawkeye, who had just reassured himself that Kyung Mi was in no danger, hurried over to Emily's prone form. Her hands were still shaking, though her breathing was settling down as she caught her breath.

Hawkeye brushed the hair out of her face and conversed quickly and quietly with BJ. "Right," Hawkeye said, looking down at Emily, "we need to fix those stitches. We're going to need to lift you up and put you on a stretcher. It'll hurt, and I'm sorry about that, but we have to." Emily nodded once and Radar, who had been intelligent enough to think ahead, entered with Colonel Potter and a stretcher.

Once again, Emily found herself on an operating table with bleary eyes looking up at BJ. "I wasn't sure your skills were up to par last time. So, I had to make sure," she joked.

BJ joked back, "Well, if you weren't such a klutz, we wouldn't be here." She gave a faint smile as the sedatives took hold and then there was nothing but blissful unconsciousness.

_Thanks for reading and PLEASE review! It means a lot to me! _


	5. Revelations and Fights

_Hey guys, thanks so much for reading. Sorry for the delay in posting. School's started up again and this year is busier than ever before. Anyway, please leave a review, it really means a lot! Innumerable thanks to my beta Ladyhawke Legend. She's fantastic! Also, I own nothing but my original characters. _

**Chapter 5**

The sky was filled with smoke. Ominous shapes loomed from the darkness. The house behind her had crumbled into rubble. A loud buzzing overhead foretold the appearance of a plane, flying fast and low. The smell of fire lay heavy in the air, mingling with the stomach-churning, smoky tang of burning flesh. Emily could see little. She could hear screams from underneath the remains of the building behind her. Yet, they did not draw her attention.

She ducked and covered, looking for shelter. She knew the plane would not fly so low without a purpose. As she hit the ground, the building beside her exploded in a shower of debris. Wood, plaster chunks, and dirt blew outward. Shaking the dust from her body, Emily struggled upward, half-deafened by the noise of the explosion. The building beside her was on fire, belching smoky clouds upwards to join the others.

At the end of the street, one building still stood. Emily's leg ached; blood ran fresh and sticky down her leg. She half-ran half-limped to the building. Suddenly, over the cacophony of a village under siege, she could hear another noise. It was delicate and calming. Her battle weary brain took a moment to realize that it was a music box. Its slow, fragile tinkling had somehow made itself heard over the noises of the village's destruction.

Behind her, a Korean man was engulfed in flames. He ran screaming down what had been the main street of the small Korean village, but Emily was too preoccupied with the siren call of the strange music to notice. She cautiously pushed open the door to the building.

There was a small, black haired Korean child on the ground propped against a pile of rubble. He was dressed in a small soldier's uniform, clutching a teddy bear. A gun lay on the ground beside him. Blood trickled from both his nostrils and ran from underneath his small helmet. A small music box lay on the ground near him. Its small mirror was smashed and the small figures that had once danced around the inside of the music box had melted into a puddle of unrecognizable goo from the heat of the flames. Only its music still played. Emily moved closer. She saw a hole appear in the teddy bear, blood running from it.

Emily barely had time to puzzle over how a stuffed animal could bleed when the whole building exploded outward. Emily felt a rush of fire speeding towards her. She could feel its intense heat on her face – and then she woke up.

She sat bolt upright. She was tangled in her sheets, and a sheen of cold sweat covered her body. She untangled herself from the sheets and swung her feet over the side of the bed. Then she sat on the side of her bed, with her head in her hands. Her breath came in sharp gasps. Emily could feel herself shaking and was disgusted with herself. _It was just a dream,_ she kept repeating. _Just a stupid dream. It was just a dream._ She used the feeling of her feet on the floor to help anchor herself in the present.

Still, it took longer than she would like for the trembling to cease. She knew she wouldn't sleep again that night.

It had been days since her operation. BJ was pleased with how Emily's side was healing. She no longer had bandages on her leg and the head wound had healed cleanly. Emily had been unhappy to find herself back in bed, but she knew it was necessary. She had spoken with Sidney, but hadn't really said too much. According to him, she danced unsatisfactorily around his questions about herself, though she had expressed a good deal of concern over Kyung Mi.

Kyung Mi had much improved since her last panic attack. It almost seemed that Emily knew when Kyung Mi was going to wake before it happened, for she was always present when she awoke. She spoke calmly and reassuringly right from the start. She held the other girl's hand and pressed it gently, firmly conveying her presence. Kyung Mi was becoming more and more coherent.

BJ was sitting with her outside on the bench outside post-op. She had her feet pulled up on the bench and was enjoying the sunshine. Sidney was sitting with them too. Sid had heard that Emily wasn't eating enough and had come properly prepared. Several treats, not available from the mess tent, were sure to pique her interest. Perhaps good food could relax her enough to convince her to talk – or if nothing else, he could use it to bribe her into talking.

While they sat, BJ had been chattering aimlessly, talking about anything and nothing. Emily found it soothing enough just to listen to him. Sid interrupted BJ long enough to bring out a medium sized brown bag. From it he drew several fresh apples. The look on Emily's face was unmistakable – she wanted an apple. Sid smiled and offered her one as a sort of peace offering. She took it gratefully.

BJ was back to talking when he suddenly heard a metallic click. He looked over to find that Emily had pulled out of her pocket a small switchblade which she had flipped open. She was using the small knife to neatly cut the apple into slices in her hand. BJ asked the see the knife. Emily handed it over, the blade still slick with apple juice. He examined the well-cared for blade and found that there were two initials carved into the blade: EJ. The knife had been personalized for her. The initials were crudely carved into the blade. BJ handed it back and asked curiously where she had gotten it.

"Well, in my town, there is..." She hesitated, thinking about the fact that her village had been destroyed, then continued, "well, there _was_ a tradition. Once a child becomes an adult, they receive their own knife. It's supposed to symbolize the struggle of breaking from childhood into adulthood. Rite of passage and all that stuff."

Sid made a noise of interest and said, "Interesting, I've never heard of anything like that before in Korea."

"Well, I'm not sure if it's a tradition everywhere in Korea." She paused, looking a little nostalgic. "But it was in my town. Getting your knife was very important. It was something pretty serious."

"When did you get yours?" BJ asked.

"Years ago," she said, her gaze turned inward. "I was eight."

"Eight?" BJ asked incredulously. "You were considered an adult at eight?"

"Things are different here than in America." She looked quite seriously at him, "When I was eight years old, I started working in the fields: long, full days. It was hard, but I did it. I think I would've gotten my knife after that, but uh…something else happened that ensured that I got my knife."

She looked off in the distance, suddenly quiet. "What happened?" Sid asked.

"There was a fire." She looked back at the two men. "It had been a dry summer. Everything was really dry and a cooking fire got out of hand. One of the buildings caught on fire. And…one of the other kids was still inside the house. I went and got him."

She fingered the hilt of the knife with a kind of reverence. "That was very brave of you," BJ said quietly.

She shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I did what I had to," she said curtly. "Anyway, after that, I was an adult. So, I got my knife, just like the rest of the adults. Your knife is something that you take care of forever, 'cause it's not cheap. And everyone else respects someone else's knife. They respect that they have one. They respect _why_ they got their knife. That's how it works."

Realizing that there was apparently no such similar tradition in America to which BJ and Sidney could relate, she grew silent. Finally, she broke the silence and said, "It's been ages since I've had a fresh apple. Thanks very much." She looked appreciatively over at Sid, who nodded.

Picking up his conversation where he had left off, BJ rustled in his shirt pocket and pulled out a photo. "Here's one of the most recent ones that Peg sent me. Our neighbor took it," he said, practically beaming. Emily took the photo. A blond little girl with pigtails grinned up at the camera. A slender, attractive, blonde woman had her arm around the little girl's shoulders. They looked happy.

Staring at it for a moment she said, "Peg and Erin." BJ nodded, eyes aglow with happiness and pride.

Emily smiled at his reaction and said, "They look real nice. You must be proud of them, and you must miss them a lot."

Again, BJ nodded. He said nothing, as though even the mention of his separation from his wife and daughter was painful. For a moment, the three sat in silence. Apple finished, Emily shifted and again reached into the pocket of her sweats. She came out with something that looked like a folded piece of paper. She handed to BJ without a word.

BJ took the piece of paper and unfolded it. After doing so, he realized that it was not a piece of paper, but rather an old photograph. Its edges were worn, it had been folded into quarters, and the colors had faded somewhat with age. It was a picture of three people standing in front of a white house. The house was big and the yard spacious. The property was obviously loved.

He looked closer at the three people. A little girl, similar in age to his own daughter, was standing in front of a man and woman. BJ assumed that the two adults were the little girl's parents. After looking more closely, he saw features of the girl's face that he recognized. It was Emily as child.

"That's you! You were a cutie!" BJ exclaimed. Emily blushed, made a small noise of embarrassed pleasure, and looked down at her sticky hands. BJ continued looking at the photo, taking in the other occupants of the photo.

"Your parents?" BJ asked quietly. Emily nodded, looking fondly and somewhat wistfully at the picture. "And your house?"

She nodded again and said, "A neighbor took that picture."

BJ turned the old photo over in his hands. On the back in fading black pen was written, "The Johnsons: Carter, Olivia, and Emily. At their newly renovated house! (46 Hamilton Street)."

After silently getting permission from her, BJ passed the picture to Sid. After a bit, Emily said very quietly, "It feels like somebody else's life."

"What does?" Sidney asked, though he was sure he knew what she was talking about. He wanted her to clarify on her own. Perhaps he could get her talking.

"That photo," she responded. "It's…like…looking at a photo from somebody else's album…but I know it's me." BJ and Sid both looked closely at her. She didn't look upset; rather she looked tiredly resigned, as though knowing that nothing could change her current situation. Their lack of censure encouraged her to continue. "My mother died when I was three, not too long after this photo I suppose," she paused again as Sid handed back the photo.

She looked almost embarrassed when she said, "I wouldn't even know what she looked like if it weren't for this photo." Putting the photo in her pocket, she paused for another moment and said, "I'm starting to forget him." She looked down, examining her hands as though they were the most exciting things in the world.

"Forget who?" Sidney asked. "Your father?" He had been filled in on what little background the rest of the 4077th knew about Emily, and he knew that her father had only recently passed away.

She nodded and said, "He only died a year and half ago…what will I remember about him in ten years?"

BJ put his arm around her and pulled her into an awkward hug. She didn't resist.

"You can't help that," BJ said. "It just happens over time. But you're never going to forget all about him." He could feel her hot breath on his neck and could feel her fingers clutching desperately at his shirt.

Sidney was pleased. At least she was willing to talk to BJ, even if she wouldn't talk to anyone else. The moment was ruined however when Frank came walking by with Margaret. He was talking loudly and gesticulating, oblivious to the tender moment going on right beside him.

"But Margaret!" All three heard Frank saying. "The Koreans are advancing. Unless we take some action, soon we'll be overrun with those savages."

Seeing Emily was nearby and not approving of the way Frank spoke about the Koreans, Margaret said, "Frank! They're not savages."

"Oh don't try to defend them, Margaret. One moment they're your friend and then next –" he slapped one hand into the other for emphasis, "– they've turned you in to their prisoners! They're never going to change."

BJ had felt Emily go stiff in his arms and knew that she was listening. Though she was not truly Korean herself, he knew that she had a great deal of respect and affection for the Koreans. She had spoken briefly – but with obvious appreciation – about how the Koreans had taken care of her after her father died. She certainly wouldn't appreciate Frank talking like that.

Margaret looked as though she was going to reprimand Frank again for his behavior and choice of words, but Emily beat him to it.

"Maybe the Koreans act that way towards you because of how you act towards them!" she suggested loudly.

"Well, what do you know about it, twerp?" he asked meanly.

"Do you treat all the Koreans you meet like that?" she asked. "I'm sure you're not the only American here who doesn't approve of the Koreans. I'm not saying that everyone acts that way," she said hastily, looking at BJ and Sidney, attempting to communicate that she wasn't implying that _they_ would act that way. "But with the way you act, it's no wonder."

"The way I act?" Frank blustered. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for them!"

"Frank, don't be an idiot," Emily responded crossly. "Most Koreans didn't have _anything_ to do with this war starting. You know, in my village we were perfectly happy without a war – thank you very much. It's the _governments_ that cause the problems. You shouldn't go around blaming every individual Korean for the faults of the nation. Just like I don't blame every single American for you guys being here. It's not fair."

"Oh, not fair is it?" he questioned snidely. "Well then, if they don't have anything to do with this war then why do they keep shooting at us?"

"They're shooting because you're shooting." Frank looked as though he might have some snarky comeback, so Emily hurried to say, "Once the Americans got here the damage was already done. I know that most, if not all of you, don't want to be here. It's not your fault that your government ordered you here. Likewise, the Koreans didn't really want you here either. They were happy going about things like they always did. But once Americans were put here for the purpose of a war, the Koreans had no choice but to fight back and defend themselves. They're doing the same thing that you would be doing if the roles were reversed."

Frank opened his mouth to respond. "Frank, drop it," Hawkeye's stern voice came from nearby. He was coming out of post-op after checking on Kyung Mi. Frank, however, ignored Hawkeye's warning.

"Well if that's the case then, little miss smarty pants, we'll be in this war forever. Each side keeps encouraging the other to fight."

Emily looked disgusted and said, "Frank, are you seriously telling me that the future is – can only be – more of _this_?" She gestured to the camp and the battle scarred land around them all.

"It's the way things are. It's the nature of things," he responded snottily. "You can't change nature."

"Nature _is_ change, Frank!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration like she wasn't dealing with a US major, but rather with a recalcitrant child. "The future is the one thing we _can_ change. And that change starts when _we_ decide. Until it's made clear that we as a people don't approve of this war, it's not going to stop. Stopping it is our responsibility."

Frank was silent. Apparently he had never thought about the situation in such a manner. Emily shook her head, still looking disgusted. Her one fist clenched and unclenched almost mechanically. Margaret, realizing both that Emily had made a valid point and that she was also very mad, tugged Frank away. They could hear him complaining to Margaret all the way across the camp.

"Don't listen to Ferret Face," Hawkeye said, casting an annoyed glance at Frank's retreating back. "He's just full of hot air. And he's a jerk. But, I'm sorry. He didn't have any right to talk like that. We," he gestured to the rest of the camp, "all know that not every Korean is out to kill us. Just like not all of us are out to kill Koreans. It's war. That's what happens."

"Yeah, don't listen to him," BJ agreed. "Sometimes Frank just takes a big dose of stupid in the morning."

"Sometimes?" Hawkeye questioned with a raised eyebrow, a look of over emphasized skepticism on his face.

Emily grinned at their antics. She knew it was an attempt to make her feel better, and she couldn't help but smile.

"But, seriously, if he ever says anything like that again," Hawkeye said, "just let us know. He has no right to say that."

Emily shrugged and murmured, "It doesn't matter." Despite her words to the contrary, all three men knew that it _did_ matter and it _did_ hurt. They knew that there was no way for what Frank had said not to hurt.

_Thoughts? Comments? Questions? I'd love to hear what you think! Please leave a review!_


	6. Courage Comes in Many Forms

_Hi everyone! Sorry for the long delay in posting. The semester has been a busy one thus far. I'm working like a crazy woman trying to get it all done. So, here's chapter six. I hope you enjoy it. I can't thank enough my beta, Ladyhawke Legend, who always looks over my stories and suggests where I can add more to the story line. The results are always so much better with her help! :D_

**Chapter 6**

For once, Radar had some free time. Colonel Potter thought that his clerk could use a break, so he'd given him the day off. Radar happily spent this time taking care of his animals, drinking a leisurely Grape Nehi at Rosie's, and eating several large meals at the mess tent. The camp was quiet, and Colonel Potter was finally getting some of his own paperwork done.

It seemed that things were progressing well with their patients as well. Kyung Mi was much calmer than she had previously been. Emily's ripped stitches were healing quickly. Emily had never mentioned the incident to Kyung Mi, and the rest of the staff had followed suit. She knew that it hadn't been Kyung Mi's intention to hurt her, and to bring the matter up was only inviting another panic attack.

Sherm sat at his desk, sighing over the latest pile of ridiculous forms that the army required him to fill out, when he heard a voice coming from the front office. It wasn't Radar's.

"No, no. I'm trying to — If you would let me finish — I'm trying to make a request for duplicate copies. …What do you mean you need to see the original to give me a copy? I don't have the original, that's the point! …Yes, I belong here. If you want proof you can look up — I already told you,_ I_ _don't have the original_! …Are you sure that there's no other way? But…yes, I understand. Thank you very much."

He peeked through the window to see Emily sitting in sweats and a t-shirt at Radar's desk. She was seated cross legged on his chair with bare feet and was hanging up the phone. Emily was rubbing her temples with her fingers as though she had a headache. Though Potter didn't know who she was talking to, it wasn't too hard to guess what she might have been doing. He knew that she had lived in Korea for several years with her father, but he also knew that she wanted to return to America. In the years since her father died however, the paperwork that legally proved she was allowed to be in the country had been lost. Without the paperwork, Sherm was sure that the Korean government wouldn't allow her to leave the country. She would need to get a hold of her paper work before even attempting to leave — and she knew that.

She thunked her head down onto the desk. She let loose a low string of expletives which assured Sherm that her English education had been a thorough one. "What a nightmare!" she mumbled into the desk. She was startled out of her reverie, however, by the doors to the office banging open. Radar walked in and caught her completely off guard.

Emily shot up as though jolted by a cattle prod and tried to look nonchalant. "Oh hey, Radar," she said amiably.

Sherm shook his head. The girl was good. If he hadn't seen her thoroughly upset not five seconds before, he might not have known anything was wrong if he didn't know her well. However, he and the other staff had gotten to know her quite well during her enforced stay at the 4077th. So Radar too knew that something was up as well.

"Hey, you doin' okay?" he asked as she stood up from his chair.

"Yeah, sure. Why wouldn't I be?" she asked, a little bit too defensively.

Realizing that he had hit a nerve, Radar pressed, "Are you sure?"

She hedged for a moment, indecisive as to whether or not to say anything. At the last minute, she made up her mind and said, "I'm tired. I don't want to be here." Radar looked offended at the thought that she might not like his company, so she hurried to say, "I mean I don't want to be here in Korea."

She sat down with a sigh on Radar's bunk. He sat down, almost timidly, next to her. "I know what you mean," he said quietly, fiddling with a loose string on his blanket. "I miss my Ma a lot."

"And I'm sure she misses you," Emily said kindly, despite her own jumbled emotions. "Iowa? Right?"

"How did you know that —?"

"Radar," she said with a half-laugh, "this is a small camp, and I've been here for _days_. News travels."

He smiled, and then seemed to hesitate, as though he wanted to ask something yet was afraid to ask. "What were you doing at my desk?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. I didn't ask first — that was rude. Well…like I said, I don't want to be here. I'm hoping that maybe I can go back to America. It'll be a lot easier for me to get out while there are other Americans here. I could do some work for a pilot; maybe get a lift there for free. You know," she shrugged and cleared her throat, "but, uh, in order to leave, I need paperwork that says I'm allowed to be here in the first place."

Radar's eyes widened. "You mean, you're not even supposed to be here?" he exclaimed in a whisper.

"No, I'm supposed to be here. I'm allowed to be here. But my father had the paperwork…and he died a year and a half ago. I hadn't ever had a need for the paperwork before. In a town as small as mine, no one bothers to come check your paperwork. Then my father died, and I had to leave and find a village where there was work. Then that village got attacked…and the paperwork just got lost in the shuffle. I'm not even sure that the paperwork was actually with my father even when he was alive. I have no idea where else it might be. So, I tried to get new copies. I can't even hope to get on a plane without it. The problem is they won't give me copies unless I have the originals or an ID, neither of which I have. I don't have my birth certificate or my visa. I don't have anything to prove who I am or to give any proof that I'm allowed to be here. So, I'm sort of stuck."

Radar looked stunned. He couldn't possibly imagine having to live in Korea for years without even the hope of leaving. He could barely stand living there while he had to.

"It's just…," she hesitated, looking unsure how to continue. "Lately, I've realized how much I'm missing be here in Korea. I could be going to school. I could be reading English books or finding my old house. I could be with other Americans. Well," she said abruptly, clarifying, not that there's anything wrong with Koreans, but being the only American in a town full of Koreans gets…lonely sometimes. I keep thinking about what might happen if I could only get to America. And it's driving me crazy, because I might _never _get there. It feels like I'll just keep wondering for the rest of my life." Emily gave a strangled sigh and mumbled so quietly that Sherm almost couldn't hear it from his office window. "I want to go home…but I don't know where that is."

"Awww, gee," Radar said, looking upset at her heartbroken tone.

Unsure what to do or how to react, without thinking, Radar kissed her. Though taken aback by his affections, she certainly didn't seem to disapprove, and she kissed him back. She moved a hand up to run her fingers through his hair. Potter could see Radar arch his back and tense, presumably due both to his unfamiliarity with intimate situations and to his excitement at the thrill of something new and intense.

Radar, however, was easily embarrassed by his action. So despite his enjoyment of the experience, he quickly pulled away. "You know," he said, nervously adjusting his green cap and glasses, "my Ma told me that home isn't just one place — it's wherever you're around people who love and care about you. And that can be anywhere. Like here." Still looking incredibly embarrassed, Radar mumbled something about needing to finish a supply count and dashed out the door.

Colonel Potter was fairly sure that the angels must be singing the Hallelujah chorus. He never, _never_ would've suspected that Radar would make the first move. It had been as plain to Colonel Potter as the nose on his face that they were interested in each other. With all the excitement that seemed to have followed Emily to the 4077th, there hadn't really been the opportunity for them to get more acquainted. Sherm sighed wistfully and shook his head. _Ah, to be young again,_ he thought nostalgically.

Emily still hadn't moved from Radar's bed. She looked pleased, but surprised. Radar's words seemed to have had an impact on her…or maybe it was just the kiss. "Well, I'll be damned," she mumbled with a grin. Though it wasn't how Sherm would've handled the situation, Emily certainly did seem less depressed than before. Sherm grinned. _Youngsters,_ he thought.

For a moment, he considered confronting either one of them about the situation, but Radar was clearly flustered and confused, unsure of what had made him express his feelings so suddenly. It was also clear that Emily had other things on her mind. He had heard her say so himself. He sauntered out into Radar's office, trying to be nonchalant. "Well, Emily, how are we doing today?" he asked cheerfully. She grinned, opened her mouth to answer, but instead flushed scarlet.

"I'm doing…things are…I've been…great. It's just great," she said dazedly, patting him absently on the shoulder. "Everything is great. Uh, I'm gonna get something to eat. I'll — see you later, yeah?"

She didn't wait for his response and she drifted out the door in a haze of happiness. Sherm waited for the door to close before he grinned, unable to suppress a chuckle at the two of them.

Of course, news of Radar kissing Emily spread like lightning around the small camp. Sherm flat out refused to discuss it on principle. If his clerk was finally having some fun, that was his own business and no one else's. However, Hawkeye had caught a rather flustered Radar coming out of the office, had figured out what had happened, and he had been teasing Radar ever since. That, in turn, just made Radar even more reticent around Emily.

Radar was mercifully cut a break from the teasing when a new batch of wounded was brought into the 4077th. He'd been sitting in the mess tent halfway through a mystery meat sandwich, which he swore was supposed to be ham, when he sat up stock still. He closed his eyes and seemed to be listening to something only he could hear.

Hawkeye, who was sitting at the table with Radar, BJ, and Emily, said, "Oh, Radar, not again!"

"Sorry Hawk, I don't make 'em come, I just report 'em." He hopped up from the table and ran for the PA system in his office as rest of the crew in the dining hall ran for the landing pad.

Apparently the front must have shifted somewhat away from the 4077th, for despite the amount of time that Emily had been in the camp, she had never seen other wounded arrive. She followed the others, curious. As they jogged toward the landing pad, she yelled over the noise of the approaching helicopter to BJ, "What's going on?"

"Wounded," he said curtly. "You should go back to the mess tent." She had seen enough of the horrors of war first hand, and she could tell he didn't want her to see more.

"But maybe I can help!" she yelled back.

"Well, hurry up then!" Hawkeye yelled from in front of them.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. One moment, she had been eating lunch with friends, and the next Emily was in pre-op staring down at an American soldier her own age. He had only one arm, and his stomach just about hanging out of his body. Her own stomach lurched, but she knew that this was _not_ the time to throw up.

She was running this way and that, helping the doctors wherever she could. Men were everywhere, groaning and bleeding. It was the best display of organized chaos that Emily had ever seen: Hawkeye, BJ, and Colonel Potter were sorting through the wounded, deciding who needed to go into surgery first and who could wait. She ran back and forth among them all, delivering supplies and lifting stretchers. Despite her desire to help, she knew better than to get in the way of the doctors and nurses.

When the doctors and most of the nurses had vanished, either to help settle new patients in post-op or to perform surgery on patients already in the operating room, Emily found herself feeling strangely alone. It hadn't been long since she had been in a similar situation to these men — hurt, in pain, bleeding, and confused. That thought was startling. She was jerked out of her reverie by a wet feeling on her leg. She looked down to see red staining her pant leg. For a moment, she thought it was her own blood, but seconds later she realized that the blood running down her pant leg was _not_ her own.

She had been standing next to a stretcher with a wounded man on it. Apparently, his injuries were more severe than the doctors had imagined, because he was bleeding messily — all over the floor, onto her pants, and onto the stretcher. Seeing that the nurses in pre-op had stepped out to get new supplies, she was the only one there to help. She looked more closely at his blood soaked uniform. A stomach wound just like Chang Hee. Complete panic set in.

Emily remembered Chang Hee bleeding all over the ground. She remembered thinking that surely a human body couldn't lose _that_ much blood and still live. Complete panic was replaced by fierce determination. Chang Hee hadn't died then, and this man wouldn't die either — not as long as she was capable of helping him. She jumped on top of the stretcher, straddling his body with her legs. She pressed down with all her weight on his wound. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, feeling blood trickling through her fingers, pooling sickeningly on the stretcher.

She couldn't think, couldn't react, and couldn't even find enough breath in her lungs to call for help. She knew that screaming for help might be a bad idea. She might startle one of the doctors in surgery and cause him to make a terrible mistake on his patient. Her head was swimming, and her arms were numb from putting so much pressure on the wound, yet still she stayed. Radar and Klinger came into pre-op, preparing to carry in the next stretcher for one of the doctors, and it was then that they saw her there hovering over a soldier, covered in blood.

"Emily!" Klinger yelled, rushing over, careful to avoid stepping in the pool of blood on the floor. She looked up, shell shocked, her mind completely absorbed in the task of stopping the blood and watching the soldier's faltering breathing.

"Klinger!" she exhaled, her face looking pale. "Klinger, he's bleeding. He won't stop! Get Hawkeye or BJ…or someone!"

Radar, queasy at the sight of blood and panicked by the sight of so much on Emily, had already raced back into the operating room. She could hear voices talking loudly from the other side of the door. She shook herself mentally. Of course, the surgeons couldn't come out to help her. They were all sterile and had to remain in the operating room or else they'd have to resterilize and change clothes again. There wasn't time for that.

Radar raced back out. He had a mask in one hand. "We gotta carry you both in here," he said, rushing over to the stretcher. Radar attempted to hand her the mask, since no one was allowed in the OR without one, but then realized that both her hands were occupied with the task of stopping the bleeding. She gestured with her shoulder, and he held the mask up to her mouth. She held it in place with her bloody shoulder. There was no time for such pleasantries as tying her mask.

Fueled by worry and adrenaline, Klinger and Radar lifted the man and Emily with apparent ease. Within seconds, she was whisked into surgery. The bright lights half-blinded her and only increased the swimming in her head. She was guided onto an operating table. She looked up to see Hawkeye and BJ by the table, waiting for her and the patient. Colonel Potter and Major Burns were watching from their operating tables, torn between finishing up their own patients and staring at the horrifying tableau taking place in front of them.

"Margaret," Hawkeye said, quietly. Margaret came up from behind, and Emily felt the strings of her mask being tied behind her head. She moved her bloody shoulder from the mask slowly; making sure the mask wouldn't fall. The surgeons looked her up and down. Her face was ashen. Her pant legs and shirt were soaked in fresh, bright red blood. The mask over her mouth had faint blood stains from the blood on her shoulder.

"He started bleeding," she said quietly, surprised by how muffled her voice sounded from behind her mask. "There wasn't anyone else there. The nurses went to get supplies. And I didn't…I couldn't — ."

"You did the right thing," Hawkeye said as he and BJ prepared to look him over. "He probably would've bled out in pre-op if you hadn't done anything."

BJ instructed her to move her hands back a little so that he could clamp the area. Once the bleeding had slowed and Hawkeye was preparing to stitch up the torn blood vessel, BJ spoke quietly to Emily, coaxing her off the stretcher. She got down carefully, terrified that her movements would kill the man whom she had worked to help keep alive. Her feet touched the floor, but they wouldn't hold her. Her adrenaline was running thin. Her knees gave way. If BJ hadn't been there, catching her under the arms and hauling her upright, she would've hit the floor.

"I'm okay," she mumbled, sounding somewhat punch-drunk, "my feet just fell asleep." They all knew she was lying, knew that her bravado was just an act, but they would just have to accept it for the moment. There were lives to be saved. Fortunately, there was only one more patient waiting in the hall. Since the last patient was assigned to Frank and since Hawkeye was more than capable of taking care of the soldier on his table now that the bleeding had been controlled, that left Colonel Potter and BJ free to tend to Emily.

BJ helped Emily on unsteady feet out into pre-op. He saw the blood everywhere on the floor, her bloody footprints, and felt the heavy silence in the room and could easily understand why the situation could be terrifying. Colonel Potter followed, saw the mess in pre-op, and quickly arranged for one of the nurses to clean it up. He then slipped out of his bloody scrubs and gloves to rejoin BJ and Emily.

BJ half-supported, half-carried Emily over to the sink. He stripped off his own dirty scrubs, gloves, and mask as well as Emily's dirty mask. "Let's get you cleaned up," he said quietly.

He turned on the water and motioned for her to wash her hands. She just wiped her hands dully on her shirt. Her actions made little difference since her shirt was covered in nearly as much blood as her hands. BJ gently guided her hands under the water flow. She watched with detached interest as the pink water swirled down the sink. She wondered abstractly whose blood she was covered in.

Her head was still swimming. She gripped the sides of the sink, dizzy. The room was spinning. She felt like she was going to pass out. "Here, now," Colonel Potter said, coming up from behind her, "it's alright. You're going to be fine. Just come sit here for a bit." He and BJ helped her sit down on one of the benches, and then took up seats on either side of her. BJ guided her to put her head between her legs and instructed her to take slow, deep breaths.

As she strove to breathe deeply, slowly the cobwebs at the edge of her mind began to clear. She could feel BJ's cool hand on her neck. She felt it move, and then he was rubbing reassuring circles on her back. After a moment, she sat up. Colonel Potter and BJ had their hands on her arms, silently reminding her that they were there.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, the words rushing out. "He was bleeding, and all of a sudden, it was like Chang Hee all over again. I was afraid that he wouldn't make it, that I'd miss something like I did with Chang Hee, and he'd die. I panicked. I didn't know what to do."

"For someone who didn't know what to do," Colonel Potter said, looking quite seriously at her, "you did a damn fine job." She smiled faintly, but still looked quite shaken.

_So, whatcha think? Like it? Love it? Hate it? Dying for more? Let me know! The more reviews I get, the more I'm encouraged to write faster. (And if I don't get any reviews, I worry that people don't like it, so please review!) Thanks for reading! _


	7. Aftermath

_Well here's chapter seven. Sorry it took so long. This semester has been crazy and I've been really sick, both of which have been slowing down my writing. I hope that you enjoy the next installment. Many, many thanks to my lovely beta Ladyhawke Legend. She is so talented! :D_

**Chapter 7**

"Time to change out of those clothes and shower," BJ said. looked down and realized that blood was caked and drying all over her clothes; including the two bloody handprints on her shirt that she only vaguely remembered making. She could feel that the blood had soaked through her clothes, leaving a sticky film on her skin. She nodded.

The Colonel and BJ walked her across the compound to the showers. BJ diverted to the Swamp long enough to grab her one of his towels. He gave her a gentle push into the showers and then said kindly, "Hand me out your clothes. We'll take care of them."

She only nodded. The door to the showers closed behind her. A moment later, BJ heard a timid knock on the door behind it opened a crack. A handful of bloody clothes and a pair of bloody slippers appeared through the crack. BJ took Colonel Potter said, "Now you take as long as you need to in there, sweetheart. There's no rush. We'll watch the door for you."

A small, muffled noise of affirmation was the only received. BJ and the Colonel exchanged worried glances. BJ hadn't even had time to dispose of the dirty clothes when Sid trotted across the compound. "Sherm," he said, sounding breathless, "I only just heard what happened. How's she doing?"

"Pretty upset I'd say," Sherm responded, wearily. "It's not every day you get covered in someone else's blood. Gave her a pretty good shock to the system I think, especially after what happened with Chang Hee." BJ held up the bloody clothes for Sid's inspection.

Sid's eyes widened, but he said nothing. If Emily hadn't been keen on speaking to him before, it was likely that she wouldn't be any more willing to now. Therefore, it'd be up to the people whom she _did_ trust to coax her to talk about it.

BJ could hear water running from inside the tent. He thought that she would probably take a while in the shower. It was likely that she might have trouble feeling "clean" after having so much blood on herself. _Hell,_ BJ thought tiredly, _Sometimes, _I _don't even feel clean after surgery – and I'm used it by now._

Hawkeye, now free of his scrubs, slowly walked across the compound. "How's she doing?" he asked quietly, mindful that she might be able to hear them conversing through the thin material of the tent.

"Pretty shook up," Colonel Potter said, "She damn near passed out in pre-op. White as a sheet, shaking, cold sweat. I don't think that situation was exactly what she had in mind when she agreed to help in pre-op."

Hawkeye nodded.

BJ asked, "How's the guy she saved?"

"Captain Conroy," Hawkeye said. "He's doing better. Not that it would take much."

Colonel Potter made a shushing noise.

Hawkeye continued at a lower volume, "Well, it was as big of a shock to his system as it was to hers I think. He was doing fine when we initially checked him over during triage. I made some phone calls though, got his medical records. Turns out he has hemophilia."

"What?!" Colonel Potter exclaimed, louder than he had intended. "Of all the busloads of bushwah that I've heard, this tops them all! Are you telling me that the army was stupid enough to send a confirmed hemophilic into battle? They're practically digging that boy's grave!"

Hawkeye nodded and said, "I know. Either they overlooked it or they didn't care. Either way, it's not a comforting thought. He had a tear in a minor vein. It wouldn't have been a big deal for someone without hemophilia. Even though we sedated him and even though his bleeding was under control when we first looked at him, he must've shifted around and started bleeding. Once he started bleeding, he couldn't stop. And no one was there but Emily, so…" He trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"Regardless of how it happened, keep an eye on both of them. Colonel Potter said. The other three men nodded. BJ excused himself from the other men long enough to drop off Emily's blood stained clothes for disposal and to grab a robe, slippers, and a fresh set of clothes from supply for her. When he came back she was still in the shower.

Emily felt numb, cold, despite the warmth of the water. Her hands were shaking. She took deep, steadying breaths like BJ had instructed before. It didn't seem to help. Once again the water swirling around the drain was tinged pink, though the pink was fainter than what she had seen in the pre-op sink.

She could smell the metallic tang of blood. Her stomach roiled and she had to fight hard to avoid throwing up in the shower. The smell made her think once again of the attack on her village. Suddenly, she was reliving her dream. The steam from the shower became the fog of dust that had overhung the destroyed village. The pelting water became pelting debris. She couldn't breathe. She gripped the side of the shower, willing herself not to pass out now. _Not while I'm naked!_ She thought desperately. To have to be discovered, passed out, naked in a shower stall by a group of men was just more than she could bear. She tried focusing on the refreshing scent of the soap that had been left in the shower, hoping it would clear her mind. It didn't work.

Her cascade of confusing images and thoughts was interrupted by a polite knock on the door. For a moment, she couldn't process anything. She just stood in the shower. The knock came again, accompanied by BJ's voice. "Emily," he called gently, "I've got a robe and some clothes for you when you're ready."

She turned off the shower and made her way to the door on wobbly legs. She opened the door the bare minimum amount that would allow her to pull the clothes inside. She dressed with some difficulty, combed her hair with the comb BJ had provided, and then peeked her head out the shower tent door. Sid and Hawkeye had left, giving her some space. Only Colonel Potter and BJ remained, just where they had said they'd be.

She was barefoot, wearing only the sweats and the t-shirt that BJ had brought. She clutched the robe and slippers in her hands as though they were a lifeline.

"It's all right." BJ said, approaching slowly, mindful of her jumbled emotional state. He took the slippers and robe from her and handed them to Colonel Potter.

"Now, doesn't that feel better, sweetheart?" Colonel Potter asked, in low tones. She nodded. She looked paler than either man would've liked, but the shower had perked her up a bit. There was a faint tinge of pink in her cheeks that hadn't been there before.

BJ moved slowly, allowing her to realize that nothing bad was going to happen. He held out a hand and she took it, clutching his hand in hers. Almost reflexively, her left hand came up to clutch at his arm. She held on, leaning into him, fearful and shaken. He pulled her into a gentle hug. She accepted his warmth.

"I was so worried!" she gasped out into his shoulder. "He didn't stop bleeding. Why didn't he stop bleeding? I kept pressing and he was still bleeding!"

"I know, I know," BJ murmured reassuringly into her hair as he held her close. He smoothed the hair on top of her head and rubbed her back. "I'm sorry that you had to go through that. But you know what?" He asked quietly, giving her a comforting squeeze. "He's doing just fine now. He had a bit of a shock to his system, like you. But thanks to you, he's still alive."

She sniffled once, but as he held her the trembling slowly ceased.

"How 'bout a snack?" he asked.

She shook her head and said, "No offense, but I want real food…not what's in the mess tent."

The fact that she was able to joke reassured him. He led her over to the Swamp. Colonel Potter followed behind them both. He was unwilling to leave but he didn't want to spoil the progress that BJ was making by being too pushy.

BJ led her into the Swamp and sat her down on his bed. He rummaged around in his trunk for a minute and came out with a jar of peanut butter and some fresh crackers. "Peg just sent them in the mail. Want some?" He held up the jar and the crackers.

"Well," she hedged, "I don't want to eat up all your crackers and peanut butter. That kinda stuff is hard to get around here."

BJ smiled warmly. "Peg sends them so that I can share them." He pulled out a knife and a few small plates from his trunk and made several peanut butter cracker sandwiches. He passed a plate of crackers over to her. He watched her slowly munching on the crackers as he made a plate of crackers for himself and for Colonel Potter. Once he was finished, he sat down on his bed next to her. Colonel Potter sat across from them both on Hawkeye's bed.

Soon, all three of them were eating peanut butter crackers. Both men were pleased that Emily was willing to eat. It was a sign that her shock was wearing off. Colonel Potter was watching her carefully. She seemed to be thinking. Finally, she spoke. "So…so…what happened? Why did he, uh, keep bleeding?"

BJ could tell that she was afraid to ask the question, afraid that somehow _she_ might have done something wrong. He could tell she was terrified that she might have missed something and then it would be _her_ fault that he had bled so much and nearly died.

"Well, that's all thanks to the wisdom of the army," Potter said sarcastically. "It seems that the man you saved, Captain Conroy, was a hemophiliac."

Colonel Potter wasn't sure if Emily would know what that was. Spending most of her younger years growing up in Korea, he didn't know how thorough her English vocabulary education had been. However, she was a smart girl and it seemed that she did know what the word meant for she gasped.

"But…if he's a hemophiliac…why would they let him fight? If he starts bleeding, then he wouldn't…wouldn't stop."

BJ nodded. "It was an accident. Looks like some signals must've gotten crossed up at HQ. The army might be a little too gung-ho, but they're not stupid. They wouldn't knowingly send a man into battle knowing that he'd almost definitely die if he got injured, regardless of his injury."

Colonel Potter nodded and said. "It was just an error and thanks to you, Captain Conroy gets to go home now."

Emily still seemed unconvinced.

"You did the right thing." BJ said firmly, "You didn't do anything wrong. You saved his life. No two ways about it."

She sat for a moment, absorbing what he had just said. She said, "I feel so tired."

"Well, that's normal." Colonel Potter said quietly.

BJ nodded and scooted closer to her. "Sometimes," he said quietly, putting his arm around her, "when something scary happens, your body gets confused. It doesn't know how to react. It panics. Once the panic wears off, your body is worn out from panicking. That's why you feel tired."

Suddenly, Emily's eyelids felt very heavy. Her limbs felt leaden. BJ could see she was teetering on the edge of sleep and could feel her leaning more and more into his embrace. "It's all right," he said, guiding her down onto his bed. "You can sleep on my bed for now."

Too tired to protest that she should go back to "her own" bed in post-op, she mumbled something that sounded like "okay". Before falling asleep she clutched at BJ's arm, suddenly fearful. "You won't leave me, will you?"

"No, I won't," he said, stroking her hair reassuringly.

"Good," she mumbled. Moments later, she was asleep.

The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully. Emily slept the deep, dreamless sleep of someone who was emotionally and physically drained. BJ had covered her with one of his blankets. He had checked on her several times during the afternoon. Gently feeling her temperature and her pulse, he reassured himself that she was doing better, though she didn't stir at his ministrations. Fortunately, Frank had been given some R&R in Tokyo, so he wasn't there to complain about Emily sleeping in "his" tent.

Later that evening, Colonel Potter, Sid, Hawkeye, BJ, and Radar were all playing cards in the Swamp. Out of deference to Emily's request (and because he really was concerned about her), BJ hadn't ventured far from the Swamp that afternoon. He had left only long enough to use the bathroom and grab a tray from the mess hall. During those times, he had instructed Hawkeye to holler for him should Emily show any signs of waking. However, she had slept just as soundly as before.

"You know," Sid said conversationally, eyeing his cards disapprovingly, "she really trusts you, BJ."

"I know," BJ said, looking protectively over at her sleeping form. "She's a great kid."

Colonel Potter nodded. "I think she's just a displaced person," He said with a sigh. "She doesn't really belong here, but she can't leave at the moment. And even if she could leave, where would she go?"

"She told me the other day that she didn't have any family left in the states ," BJ said, discarding a card. "She's an only child. She said her mother died of cancer. Apparently, she was diagnosed with cancer only shortly after giving birth to Emily. She struggled for three years with it before she died. Her father was heartbroken. She said that she figured her father brought them both to Korea for a change of pace. It was a place where ministry was needed and it was also a place to run away to; somewhere where every place didn't remind him of his wife."

"Knowing that," Hawkeye said, also discarding, "it seems like even if she did get back to the states, she wouldn't have anywhere to go. She's over eighteen. That means she's too old for an orphanage or foster care."

Silence overtook the group. Even if she had been young enough to qualify for foster care or an orphanage, none of them would have liked to see her put in such a place.

"So, whaddya think she'll do?" Radar asked quietly.

"It's hard to say," Potter said, mindful of his clerk's affections for the girl. "If she could only get her paperwork together so that she could leave the country, I think she'd probably go back to America, find a job, and maybe try to find that house she showed me a picture of."

Sid nodded. "She's looking for stability, Radar. That's something that she can't find here, especially without family or a home. When and if she gets back to America, she'll look for something she's used to - like a job. She's used to working hard, so it's likely that finding a job would be a crucial step for her. Not only because it would provide money, but also because it would help her life feel normal again."

"Makes you wish that there was something more that we could do," Potter said quietly. "As far as I'm concerned, she can stay here at the 4077th for as long as she needs or wants. But, let's face it: even though it might feel like forever, this war won't last forever. And when it ends and we all get shipped home, she'd still be stuck and in even worse shape than before."

"Maybe we can help," Radar said slowly.

Potter quirked an eyebrow at his clerk. "How d'ya mean, son?"

"Well," he said slowly, clearly thinking the idea through, "she's helping us out around here, right?" Heads nodded around the table. "We could do what we did before. Remember the lamb that we had? The one that you guys were gonna…well…" Radar trailed off.

Hawkeye vividly remembered the lamb that a Greek colonel had sent to the 4077th as a thank you. It had been the Greek colonel's intention that the lamb would be used in an Easter celebration. But Radar had been so heartbroken at the thought of the 4077th killing the little lamb that he had worked out a scheme. He had pretended that the lamb was a patient that was to be given a medical discharge and had then gotten the lamb sent home to his Ma in Ottumwa. Hawkeye shook his head in amusement. How could he possibly have forgotten "Private Charles Lamb"?

"The army might be stupid, Radar but I don't think they'd fall for that twice," he said.

BJ nodded. "Hey Radar, maybe you could work some of your magic and find some way to get us copies of her legal paperwork?"

Radar considered the matter and shyly said, "I could do it I think… but I'd have to be...a little less than honest…"

"Son," Colonel Potter said, patting his leg, "Do whatever you need to get it."

Radar nodded and hopped up to get working. "Not to sound like a wet blanket," Sid said slowly, "but even if she gets the paperwork what good will it do? She's likely to be quite confused and upset right now. Moving back to States? For her, it _is_ a foreign country. With no family, no home, and no real place to go, that's not exactly a great plan."

BJ had a strange look on his face. "What if she got adopted?" The rest of the men at the table gave him a strange look. "No, I'm serious!" He said, looking defensive. "If she had a family waiting, that would give her something to go back to."

"Well," Sid said slowly, "that would be better. But the question is whether or not she'd _want_ to be adopted. She's an adult now. She's used to taking care of herself. She might find being adopted more strange than comforting."

BJ considered the comment and nodded. The game continued, but an idea had begun to fester in his brain. He looked over at Emily, who was silently sleeping on his bunk. He knew he had to give it a shot.

_If you're enjoying this, please just leave a quick review. It means the world to me and encourages me to keep going. Just push that little button down there. C'mon. You know you wanna… XD_


	8. Dreams and Nightmares

_Happy New Year everyone! Here's Chapter 8. Sorry for the delay in posting. There were finals and the move home and now the holidays that have been delaying me. Once again, I have to thank my lovely and talented beta, Ladyhawke Legend. She's been through some rough times recently, but she's come out on top – and through it all she's been nice enough to still beta my story for me! *virtual cookie* Also, thanks to all of you who are still reading! :D_

_Author's Note: _빨간 _is the nickname that Kyung Mi uses for Emily. It's a Korean term of endearment and it means "Little Red", which is Kyung Mi's nickname for Emily on account of her red hair._

**Chapter 8**

She was walking in a fog. She couldn't see anything. Barefoot and cold, she felt utterly alone. Suddenly, she heard a noise. It took only seconds for her to realize that the noise was a plane, flying fast and low. The village.

Seemingly from nowhere, piles of rubble that had once been buildings loomed up on either side of her. Once again she could hear the siren call of the tinkling music. She was walking down the main street of the demolished village, toward the music. However, this time when she made her way into the building at the end of the street, it was not a black haired child that was lying on the floor bleeding. It was Captain Conroy.

Bleeding messily from his stomach, he looked up at her. "Help me, Emily!" he cried. His voice was indistinct, muffled by the chaos in the village. She looked down – blood was dripping from her hands. "Help me!" he cried again.

Terrified, she turned and ran. She could hear him lurching after her. She could feel him getting closer and closer. She could feel his hot breath on her neck. The plane flew still lower. She felt Captain Conroy tackle her from behind. She went down hard. He grabbed her legs, effectively pinning her to the ground. She couldn't move. Suddenly, it wasn't Captain Conroy on top of her, but rather Kyung Mi.

"It's all your fault!" Kyung Mi yelled. Kyung Mi became Chang Hee. Half his head was smashed in; some of his brains were hanging out. "Look what happened to me. Look what you missed. It's because of you!" He leaned forward, his hands gripping her throat. She screamed.

All the men at the table started. One minute they had been playing cards and the next Emily, who had been asleep, was screaming. BJ was out of his chair like lightning. Emily was panicking, struggling with the blanket he had placed over her. It had tangled itself around her legs. Her struggling only tightened the blanket. He raced over and quickly, but carefully untangled the blanket from her legs.

Her breath came in ragged gasps. She was trembling, her face flushed. She seemed dazed – caught between the waking world and whatever nightmare she had just been experiencing. BJ sat down and pulled the shaking girl close. He hugged her and whispered reassuring words.

The other men sat at the card table, at a loss for words. Emily was clearly scared, but she trusted BJ, and they were hesitant to disturb them. Sid contented himself with listening from the table.

"It's okay," BJ murmured. "It's okay. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"It was awful!" she gasped almost, but not quite crying. "I was in the village. It was being bombed. Then…Colonel Conroy…he was bleeding. Then it wasn't him...Kyung Mi, she was…and Chang Hee…" she gasped shakily. BJ pulled her closer still. Now, more than ever, he was resolved to try his idea. This was no place for Emily to be.

He didn't need to entirely hear or understand what the dream was about to comprehend her distress. It was likely that she still was still dealing with the stress of the village bombing and her friends nearly dying – as well as her own near death. Saving Captain Conroy had just added another shock to her system. It wasn't strange that she was dreaming about those things.

He patted her hair and held her close until her shaking ceased. "Why do I keep having these nightmares?" she asked.

BJ pulled away a little, looking sternly down at her. "You've had nightmares before?" She nodded. "Why didn't you tell me – or anyone else?"

"I didn't want to bother you guys. And I figured that they'd go away on their own."

"Sometimes they do," BJ said quietly, "but when you've been scared a lot, having nightmares is your body's way of releasing some stress."

"So…I'll keep having nightmares?" She still looked upset, but she wasn't frightened anymore.

"For a while," Sid said from across the room, "but if you talk about them, you'll work through the things that are scaring you. Eventually, your brain won't need to think about them while you're asleep."

She nodded, but didn't look pleased at the prospect of having more nightmares. "And don't worry," BJ said soothingly, "when and if you have another nightmare, you can always come to Hawk and me."

Hawkeye nodded and walked over. He sat on his bunk across from her. "We'll bring an extra cot in and you can sleep here with us. Then, if you have nightmares, we'll be right here."

"That's right," BJ said.

"Well gentlemen," Colonel Potter said, standing up from the card table. "It's time for me to be getting to bed." He sensed that he should give them some space. He feigned a large yawn.

"Uh, yeah," Radar said, looking worried. "I got some more paperwork to do." He suddenly felt unsure of himself. Emily was always so confident, so sure of herself. To see her panic was unsettling.

Sidney was mentally thanking the other two. It was better not to push her to talk about anything or to make her feel self conscious. He stood up and said, "I promised I'd speak to the good Father about something. I hope you don't mind if I bow out of this game too."

"Of course not," Hawkeye said, amiably. The three exited quietly. After the door banged shut, a silence descended. Emily sat with her feet pulled up, her arms around her legs. Hawkeye thought that it was kind of body language Sid would call "protective".

She sniffled and said quietly, "Sorry I ruined your card game."

"You didn't ruin it," Hawkeye said quietly, shaking his raven-haired head. "You just had a nightmare. There's nothing wrong with that. It's not something to be ashamed of." She still looked embarrassed. "You don't think the rest of us have dreams like that? Dreams that leave us terrified and afraid to sleep? Dreams that leave us scared witless? We all have them."

She had never heard Hawkeye speak with such seriousness and conviction before. There wasn't a hint of joking. He was telling her the truth.

BJ's head bobbed in agreement, and he said, "When I first got here, I was terrified. After seeing what happens to people here, after doing surgery the first time, I kept having this nightmare. Except it was Peg or Erin on that table." He shivered at the very thought of the memory. "Hawk's right. Everyone has had that happen, and I'd say you've been through more than most of the people here."

"I just…," she broke off and looked down at her feet. The visions of her nightmare still fresh in her memory prevented her from continuing. BJ put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. Knowing he was there, she found herself able to continue. "It was just so…vivid."

Hawkeye nodded and said quietly, "The bad ones always seem real."

"I mean," she continued, in a hurried tone, "I dream all the time. I know I do because I remember them, but I don't usually have nightmares. Even when I do, I wake up and right away I know they're not real. It's just like, me being chased or getting lost or…something. But I mean, this time I didn't even know it was a dream. Even when I woke up and I _should've_ known it was a dream, it still felt so real that I wasn't sure."

Hawkeye and BJ nodded. Everyone in the camp had been through the same thing at one time or another. He hadn't made that up just to make her feel better. It was a fact. War put people in some pretty damn strange and frightening situations, and it was only a matter of time. Sooner or later everyone had nightmares.

"Come on," Hawkeye said, "let's get some air."

BJ nodded. "He's right," he said, holding out his hand for Emily to take. "It helps clear your mind. Always helps me when I can't sleep."

The three walked aimlessly around the camp. For once, it wasn't oppressively hot. There was a light breeze and the temperatures had dropped, signaling the approaching end of summer. Hawkeye wasn't sure if he should be appreciative of that or not. While he hated the oppressive summer heat, he almost thought it might be better than the bitter cold of the winter to come.

"How 'bout something to eat?" Hawkeye pressed.

"I'm not really hungry," she said. "But could we…could we…," she stopped, suddenly looking self conscious.

"Could we what?" BJ asked gently.

"Could we go into post-op and see Kyung Mi?"

Kyung Mi was much better than she had been upon their arrival. Her head injury had healed, and her broken ribs were knitting cleanly. In a few days, Hawkeye and BJ thought that she'd be well enough to take very short jaunts around the compound.

"Sure," Hawkeye said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I'll go get your cot set up. You come back to the Swamp when you're ready, okay?"

She nodded. Hawkeye left. Emily and BJ stood in the cool night air for a moment. She let out a slow breath. She turned and walked inside with a jaunty, confident step that betrayed her frightened feelings.

Despite the late hour, Kyung Mi was still awake. She had been chatting with the patient in bed next to her. Though her English was limited, she was friendly and was interested by the prospect of speaking in English to someone other than Emily. Emily came in and waved. Kyung Mi waved back. BJ hung back by the doors, waiting to see what Emily would do.

Emily sat down at the foot of Kyung Mi's bed. Before Emily could even say anything, Kyung Mi looked strangely at her. "빨간," Kyung Mi said, clearly using a nickname, "what is wrong?"

"Nothing, why?" she asked, pretending as though this were merely a social call and not an attempt to reassure herself that Kyung Mi was still alive.

Kyung Mi tutted and shook her head. "빨간," she said again. "You are a bad liar. I always can tell when you lie."

BJ smirked. Even if she could hide it from some people, not everyone could be fooled by her act. "I, uh," Emily began, looking down at her hands. She looked back up. "It's nothing."

Kyung Mi shook her head and narrowed her eyes. "It bothers you. It is not nothing. If it does not bother you, then it is nothing. But this bothers you. I know."

Emily smiled sheepishly and said, "I had a dream."

"A bad one," Kyung Mi finished. It wasn't a question.

Emily nodded. "I dreamt we were back in the village. You were there, and you were hurt. Then you pinned me to the ground and told me that it was all my fault that you were dying."

Kyung Mi looked sternly at her and said, "If not for you, I would be dead now. It is _not _your fault." Emily smiled. Kyung Mi took her hand and squeezed it. "Mama would be proud if she was here. You do a good job."

"Kyung Mi," Emily started, looking morose, "about your mom…I'm so sorry. Mama was a good woman."

Kyung Mi nodded. "Mama is not a good woman. Mama is the best."

Emily laughed. "You're right. She was the best."

"Was?" Kyung Mi asked. "Mama may not be dead."

Emily looked skeptical. "Kyung Mi," she said in a quiet voice, "do you remember what the attack was like?" Kyung Mi shook her head back and forth. "I do." Emily said quieter still. "We were lucky. We weren't actually _in_ town when it happened. But Mama and everyone else – they were in there. I think it's safe to say that they didn't make it."

Kyung Mi shrugged. "We are okay. Maybe they are okay too."

Emily made a noise of agreement in her throat, but BJ could tell that she didn't believe it. It was a defense mechanism. It was easier to assume that everyone was dead than to hope for who knew how long that anyone was still alive.

"You go to bed now," Kyung Mi said, patting Emily's leg. "In the morning, you will be yourself."

Emily smiled genuinely despite her skepticism. "Maybe you're right." She looked at Kyung Mi, and then at Captain Conroy in the bed across the aisle. With her help, they had made it okay...maybe with their help she would make it too.

The next morning found Emily sound asleep on a cot in between Hawkeye and BJ's cots. She had slept quietly through the night. Hawkeye and BJ woke and dressed quietly, mindful of Emily sleeping. BJ smoothed back some errant hairs from her face with a tender hand. Hawkeye could see fatherly affection plainly on his friend's face.

"C'mon," Hawkeye said, "let's get breakfast." Reluctantly, BJ nodded and the two headed for the mess tent. After an uneventful (and mostly unpalatable) breakfast, they headed back to the Swamp. Emily was still asleep.

She mumbled in her sleep something that sounded distinctly like, "It's not my fault." BJ sat gingerly down on the edge of her cot and put a reassuring hand on her arm. Apparently his presence helped, for she quieted.

Since they didn't want to wake Emily, and since they didn't have anything better to do, Hawkeye and BJ started a game of chess. They spoke in whispers, chatting amiably. Fortunately, neither man was on post-op duty that morning. Soon, Frank would return from his R&R, so then their shifts would be even shorter when they did have them.

The approach of a jeep in the compound didn't attract their attention. Plenty of people came in and out of the 4077th. The grating voice of their least favorite person, Frank Burns, combined with a completely unfamiliar voice, however, _did_ attract their attention. BJ and Hawkeye peeked out the screen window of the Swamp. Frank was standing next to his jeep, fresh from R&R in Tokyo with someone who was unmistakably an MP. Large, bulky, stupid, and toting a machine gun, it was clear the man meant business. "That little brat is around here somewhere," Frank said loudly. "Keep an eye out for her."

"Yes, sir!" the MP saluted Frank. "Uh, what's the runt look like?"

"You know," Frank sneered, "a little runt. Disagreeable. Shifty eyes. You know their kind: trouble."

Moments later, Colonel Potter's angry voice broke in upon their conversation. "_Major _Burns," he said, emphasizing the other man's rank, "and I use that term lightly, just what in the name of Sam Hill is going on around here!"

"I brought the MP, sir," Frank said, standing up straighter. "After all, that little snot isn't supposed to be here. She hasn't got any papers. She's an alien, sir!"

Hawkeye and BJ could tell that Colonel Potter was ready to deck Frank, but given the situation,bthere wasn't much that he could do. When only the members of the 4077th knew of Emily's presence, it was possible for her to stay indefinitely. But when she was technically there illegally, it wasn't within his power to do anything.

"If you _ever_ go over my head again like that, I'll have you busted down to male nurse so fast it'll make your head spin. Major, do I make that _perfectly_ clear?"

"Yessir," Frank said.

Colonel Potter sighed. _Well hell's bells and buckets of blood,_ he thought angrily. _I can't prevent him from taking her._ He rounded on the MP and said out loud, "Well, I trust that you can do your job without my help." At least if she had to be arrested, he wouldn't have any part in it willingly.

The MP nodded. "And put that thing away," Colonel Potter barked, gesturing to the machine gun. "You'll put somebody's eye out with that thing."

The MP seemed reluctant to part with his weapon, but he was even more reluctant about disobeying a direct order. He slowly deposited the gun in the jeep.

"Right," Frank said, taking charge despite his recent scolding, "come on. She's probably in that tent with Pierce and Hunnicut. She seemed to enjoy spending time with those freaks."

The MP nodded and the two men headed straight for the Swamp. BJ and Hawkeye panicked. They couldn't let Emily be taken away. They had to buy her some time. They exited the swamp, chatting normally, trying to make it seem as though they were heading to the mess tent or out for a drink.

"Oh hello, Frank," Hawkeye said, with just enough bite in his voice to keep Frank from being suspicious. If he was too nice, Frank would be suspicious. "Have a nice time in Tokyo?"

"Like you care," he snorted. "Now where's the kid?"

BJ and Hawkeye exchanged faux confused glances. "What kid?"

"Don't play funny with me!" Frank said angrily. "I'm too smart to be stupid!"

BJ and Hawkeye exchanged a look. "He's too smart to be stupid?" Hawkeye asked BJ. "Does that mean that he's actually smart or that he's just smart enough to not be considered stupid?"

"I'm leaning towards to the second," BJ said, cocking an eyebrow. "He is a _doctor_ after all."

"Clam it!" Frank yelled. He jabbed a finger at the door to the swamp. "She's probably in there. Go get her!"

The MP nodded headed for the door. Despite BJ and Hawkeye's wheedling and attempts to delay the MP, they knew they couldn't physically block his way into the tent. If they did, then they would know for sure that Emily was there. The MP ripped the door open, his beady eyes searching.

Hawkeye , BJ, and Frank stood behind the MP, peering around his sides and over his shoulders. But there was nothing untoward to be found in their tent, however, for Emily's bed was empty.

_So, whatcha think? Please review and let me know! Reviews are such great inspiration to keep a story going – regardless of how busy life might be. Thanks so much for reading! _


	9. Pretending

_Hey guys! I hope that everyone had a very enjoyable winter holiday and a great new year. My apologies for the delay in posting. University finals, the holidays, a case of food poisoning, and a week in Disney World all took over this past month. But I really appreciate everyone whose reading! If you could just leave a review – even if it's just one sentence, it would mean a lot! (Also, just in case, an LIP is a Local Indigenous Personnel, i.e. Koreans.)_

**Chapter 9**

Emily crept, cat-silent from the tent. The commotion that Frank and the MP had been making had quickly awakened her and it had taken only moments for her to comprehend the seriousness of the situation. If she didn't do something – and fast – she'd be in _big_ trouble. So, she had squished herself out underneath the bottom of the tent. It had only taken the temporary undoing of two of the ties, with only a small amount of difficulty, and then retying them from the outside. It was a tight squeeze, but in times of desperation, one just had to do what was necessary. It was clear that this would be one of those times.

As she made her way furtively over to the supply tent, a plan began forming in her mind. She didn't have time to stop and ponder it out in the open space of the compound, so she determined that it was first important to get under some kind of cover, and then resolve the rest of the plan from there. She could hear Frank raging half way across the compound. Surely Hawkeye and BJ were confused, for she had seen them in the tent before she had crept away. They certainly weren't expressing their surprise as vocally as Frank, however.

Shortly thereafter, she could hear Colonel Potter's voice yelling. He said something that sounded distinctly like "enough of your shenanigans, _Major_" and "wait in my office so that we can have a 'conversation' as soon as I've sorted out this mess with the MP". Sherm had placed a certain emphasis on the word "Major", which told Emily exactly how peeved he really was with Frank. Emily smiled. With Frank out of the way, the half-formed desperate scheme that she had in mind just might work. While Frank was an idiot, he wouldn't disobey an order from Colonel Potter for fear of a mark on his spotless record. Emily slipped silently into the supply tent and was relieved to see that it was empty. She quickly grabbed what supplies she would need and prepared to execute her plan.

After Frank had slunk off to the Colonel's office, Colonel Potter had to come up with something. He couldn't actually prevent the MP from doing his duty because it would not only look suspicious, but it also would be a hindrance of legal matters. He certainly _could_ throw around his clout as commanding officer of the unit though.

"Now, son," he said, hoping that using the term "son" would further put the younger man in his place, "tell me exactly what you've been sent to do here."

"Well," he said, stupidly, considering the question with obvious effort, "Major Burns said that you had an alien here. That means she's illegal. That means I gotta arrest her and take her with me."

"Take her with you and do what?" Colonel Potter pressed, feeling that BJ and Hawkeye, who were standing behind him, were just as anxiously dreading the answer.

"Gotta give her to the government. Then they do whatever they do to aliens. Lock 'em up, I guess. Maybe rough 'em up a little." He shrugged nonchalantly, as though the end result was of little importance so long as he completed the actual capture.

Colonel Potter cringed inwardly. He wouldn't find it hard to picture some Korean government official beating her as punishment for her "offense", and then locking Emily up in a dank cell somewhere with little food and inadequate medical attention.

"I gotta finish my job, sir," the MP said, starting to lumber away towards the mess tent. Though the MP might not know exactly who he was looking for, Frank had given him some idea of the type of person to look for: someone out of uniform, female, white, almost inconspicuous in the right situation. BJ, Hawkeye, and Colonel Potter followed. If they stuck with him, perhaps they could appear to be helping him while surreptitiously keeping an eye out for ways to help Emily.

The mess tent, Radar's menagerie, Sophie's pen, the nurses' tent, the latrines, and Radar's office yielded nothing. The MP strode with purposeful steps toward post-op. Frank had told him that the girl he was looking for at one point had been wounded, so he figured she might still be there. After all, he had nothing to lose by looking.

BJ trotted behind Potter and the MP feeling as nervous as if it were his own little girl. He couldn't deny that he had become attached to Emily. He had sent a carefully worded letter to Peg recently and was still waiting for her response. His wife was a kind and wonderful woman and he hoped that she would take his suggestion favorably. In her last two letters to him, she had mentioned that Erin had recently been saying that she wanted a sibling. According to Peg, Erin had been playing a lot with an older and younger sister in the park. Apparently, the two sisters got along well and always seemed to be having fun. This fact hadn't escaped Erin, who reasoned that if she had a brother or a sister, she'd have lots of fun too. She had been mentioning it to her mother ever since then.

Given his growing attachment to Emily, his fear for her safety, his want to get her back to America, and his want to keep Erin happy, he had suggested that they adopt Emily. He had written to her several times since Emily had arrived at camp, so Emily wouldn't be an unfamiliar figure to Peg. Obviously, he had said, it would be ultimately up to Emily's willingness to _want_ to be adopted. But, if Peg was willing to add another member to their family, he was sure it would be worth their while. Emily was delightful, energetic, kind, and intelligent – all characteristics that would make her an excellent sister for Erin. Since BJ had no idea how long it would be until he returned home and since making babies the "good ole fashioned way" took time, this would also satisfy Erin's wants far faster.

He dearly hoped that Peg would say yes. Though Emily was quite old by adoption standards, that didn't mean that she didn't need the support and love of a family. In fact, if anything, she needed it more than most for all she had been through. She was strong, certainly, but she should not have to be so indefinitely, all alone. He had been waiting ever since for Peg's reply. He didn't even know if she had gotten the letter yet. The post was so damned unreliable that it was frustrating.

Every moment that the MP was there, his anxiety mounted. If the MP took Emily away before he could even get a response, it wouldn't matter even if his wife's response was favorable. The foursome entered post-op to see Emily standing calmly looking at Kyung Mi's chart. Despite the situation, it took all BJ had not to grin. She obviously knew something was up, for she was dressed like everyone else in camp: large, clompy boots, green fatigue pants, lighter green shirt, doctor's white coat, and dog tags. What better way to hide than in plain sight?

"Hey," the MP said approaching her, "you seen a little runt around here?" he asked abrasively.

She looked up, unconcerned. "Me?"

"Yeah, you," he repeated dumbly. "Wait a minute," he said, faint recognition dawning in his beady little eyes, "you know, you're kinda runty yourself…" He eyed her up and down suspiciously.

"Yeah, well," she said, leaning closer, "there was this thing called the draft." She lowered her voice conspiratorially, "And when you have a draft, you get all the young, short people like me. Just bad timing on their part. I'm sure I'll get taller than this eventually. Besides, you don't win battles by being tall." While the Army didn't draft women as actual soldiers, Emily had learned that they _did_ draft women to be involved with medical units. It was a perfectly reasonable story that she hoped the MP would buy. He scrutinized her.

She went back to studying the chart.

"Well, I'm here 'cause there's a girl that's not supposed to be here. And I gotta find her. You wouldn't know anything about it would you?"

"No, I wouldn't," she said curtly, curtailing his questioning. "Now, do you mind? I'm right in the middle of working with a patient here."

"You look kinda young to be a doctor," he said, eyeing her skeptically.

"So I hear," she said absently as though it were a comment of little importance. "But you know," she then said, her eyes flicking upward and meeting briefly with Colonel Potter's, "appearances can be deceiving. I'm older than I look."

She wasn't asking any of them to lie for her. Rather she was asking them to look the other way while she lied in self-defense. During this exchange, Sid had rambled in and was watching the exchange with interest. Though he knew she was lying, she wasn't showing most of the usual unconscious bodily signs of a liar. She didn't stutter or fidget. She wasn't at a loss for what to say. She was really acting fairly naturally. But then again, she must know that she either had to be completely convincing or risk losing everything.

"Well, what do you do?" he asked, still not entirely convinced.

"I'm a psychiatrist."

"A psychiatrist?" he asked. She nodded. "Then why you working with the Korean?"

"It's a new idea the army had. They're placing psychiatrists who speak Korean in M*A*S*H units. That way, when we get LIPs, we can communicate with them. You never know when they might give away something about what their side's up to."

"Oh," the MP said, impressed comprehension dawning on his face. "Whatchu learn from this one?" He jabbed his thumb towards Kyung Mi, who was lying motionless on the bed.

"Not much," she said with a shrug. "They're not all useful." She also jabbed a finger at Kyung Mi. "This one's pretty unstable."

The MP unconsciously backed away from the potentially crazy Korean girl. "Crazy, huh?" he asked.

"Well," Emily hedged, "not exactly crazy. Though," she muttered almost as an afterthought, "she did have that little incident the other day." She smiled distractingly, as though hoping he wouldn't ask about the "incident".

"What little incident?" the MP asked, sounding afraid.

"I can't tell you," she said, crossing her arms.

"Why not?" the MP asked, looking annoyed.

"Well, surely, you've heard of patient/doctor confidentiality. I can't tell you about her if she doesn't give her permission."

"If she's totally wacko, what difference does it make?" the MP asked, shifting his rifle from one shoulder to the other.

Emily seemed to consider it for a moment, and then relented, faking a serious look and lowering her voice. "Well, she had a psychotic break."

"A what?" The MP was totally unfamiliar with the term.

"It's when what's left of your sanity snaps and you just lose it."

The MP had seen good men come back from the field, similarly nutty. "Damn," he muttered.

"Yeah," Emily said, leaning easily against the foot of the bed, "but, it won't happen again. Well, at least, I hope it doesn't," she added the last part, almost as a though she was talking to herself.

"What do you mean 'hope'?" the MP asked, getting more nervous by the moment.

"Well, I can't entirely control the actions of anyone. I can help them work through what's going on and help them reach a point where they can take care of themselves, but I can't make anyone do what I want. If someone's gonna go crazy, they're gonna go crazy. Nothing really that I can do once it happens." She shrugged. "But, you know, if you think I'm the person that you're looking for, feel free to arrest me." She held her arms out, wrists together, waiting to be handcuffed.

The MP pulled out a pair of cuffs preparing to cuff her when Emily added casually, "Just, uh, be quiet about it, you know?"

The MP eyed her suspiciously, "Why?"

"Because," Emily said, eyeing Kyung Mi warily, "I guess she got burned out from the stresses of war. It's always war related things that stress her out."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, curious. "What set her off last time? When she…you know…really lost it?"

"A combat helmet that one of the visiting supply drivers was wearing when he brought some new bedding into post-op."

"She freaked out?" the MP asked, still edging farther away from Kyung Mi.

Emily cocked an eyebrow and said, "How else you think I got this?" She lifted up her shirt and showed the MP the scar from her still healing appendectomy.

His eyes widened.

"But anyway," she said, once again proffering her wrists, "if you think I'm the one you're looking for, arrest me. I mean, c'mon, we've all got a duty to do here. Far be it for me to get in the way of yours."

Even more unsure, the MP started toward Emily with the cuffs, when Kyung Mi, who had been lying on the bed deathly still as though sedated, growled and reared up on the bed.

Emily looked at Kyung Mi, and then at the clock. "Uh oh," she said in an undertone, "sedative's wearing off again." Kyung Mi stared at the MP with wild eyes, her arms and legs thrashing more and more forcefully with each passing second. BJ was forcibly reminded of when this had been happening for real.

The MP backed up 'til he was standing slightly behind Colonel Potter, his line of sight somewhat hindered by the older man's body. "Oh don't worry," Emily said, over her shoulder to the MP, "she'll be all right in a minute."

Emily pulled a full hypodermic needle out of her doctor's coat pocket. She held it upright, pressed the plunger, forcing out the air bubbles and a small amount of liquid. She then bent over Kyung Mi. Since the MP was half hiding behind Colonel Potter and since Emily had intentionally angled her back towards the MP, he couldn't accurately see what she was doing. Everyone else, however, could see that she harmlessly discharged the contents of the needle into the pillow, rather than into Kyung Mi.

Right on cue, Kyung Mi slowly stopped thrashing and eventually resumed her former limp, semi-conscious state. Emily stood upright, making direct eye contact with the MP. He was clearly spooked. "Well, uh, I guess I got the wrong girl," he edged towards the door.

She ambled over and patted his shoulder in a friendly way. "You know," she said, "if you're talking about a little mousy kinda girl, a bit runty, shifty expression," the MP nodded, "then I think know who you're talking about, now that I think about it."

The MP looked eager. "Really?"

"Oh yeah, I saw her take off in the middle of the night just a night or two ago. I was going to the latrine and I saw her slinking off. You never can trust those shifty bastards can you?" She faked a laugh and slid her arm in a comrade-esque fashion around the MP as she guided him to the door.

His jeep was still waiting outside. "Where'd she go?" he asked, clearly eager to be on the trail of his quarry. "She was heading off north towards Deokgyedong. Just follow the road straight off here. When you hit two roads merging, go right. She can't have gotten far."

The MP nodded and took off in his jeep. As his cloud of dust headed off past Rosie's, Hawkeye burst out laughing. "You…sneaky…fox!" he managed to gasp gleefully, in between bouts of laughter.

Colonel Potter clapped her on the shoulder, grinning widely. "Well, I'll be damned! You put on one hell of a show, kid!"

Sid smiled, looking amused. "You know," he said, "you lie quite well."

Emily grinned and took his comment in stride. After all, she reasoned, it was his job to notice and comment on such things. From the tone of his voice and his facial expressions, she could tell that he wasn't really reproving her either. Besides, if she hadn't done what she did, she wouldn't still be there to be having the conversation in the first place.

BJ scooped her up in a hug, relieved beyond words that the MP was gone while Emily was still there. He could feel her shaking, the adrenaline of the lie wearing thin.

"Thank God!" he heard her mutter. "If that hadn't worked…," she trailed off, unwilling to even consider what might have happened. BJ shared the sentiment. He gave her an extra squeeze and reluctantly pulled away. She looked a little pale, though her cheeks were flushed.

Sherm and Hawkeye eyed her. "Looks like you could use a celebratory drink!" Hawkeye declared.

"Sounds like a fine idea to me," Colonel Potter said enthusiastically, none of them caring that it was the middle of the day.

"May I escort you, oh lady of the fine deceptions?" Hawkeye asked with overemphasized pomp while holding out his elbow for her to take.

She giggled, pent up nervousness slowly releasing. She took his arm wordlessly. Hawkeye too could feel her shaking.

"This one's on me," he said, putting his arm around her as the group made their way over to Rosie's.

Once comfortably ensconced at table in Rosie's, Hawkeye ordered a round of drinks.

"You like whiskey?" he asked Emily, holding up the mostly full bottle that Rosie had provided him with.

Emily shrugged. She wasn't too picky about what she drank. Alcohol was a frivolous expense for someone who grew up in a poor village, so she wasn't about to complain, regardless of what she was given to drink.

Hawkeye poured her a shot, and then toasted her with his own shot glass. She clinked her glass against his while Sid, Sherm, and BJ similarly raised their glasses in a toast. She touched all their glasses, the whole thing still feeling very surreal. She could feel her right foot jiggling up and down restlessly, still unable to believe that it had worked. She downed the shot, appreciating the hot feeling of the alcohol burning down her throat.

In all honesty, she hadn't expected the MP to fall for it. It was like a hero in a movie jumping off a cliff when he's being chased by bad guys; he doesn't really expect to make it to the other side, but better to do something than to go out without a fight.

The others sensed her bewildered nervousness. They could understand her feelings. While she had done an excellent job bluffing, it was a huge lie to tell. Anyone could have messed it up at any moment by accidentally saying the wrong thing. If it hadn't worked, the consequences would've been disastrous.

"Damn," Colonel Potter said suddenly, "I forgot Major Burns was in my office, what with all the excitement."

Hawkeye laughed. "Ah, let him wait, Colonel. Have a few more drinks with us!" He waved the whiskey bottle enticingly.

Sherm sighed and shook his head. "As much as I'd love to, if I keep Major Burns waiting too long, I'll never hear the end of it." With a long suffering sigh, he stood up.

Emily also stood up. "Hey Hawkeye, thanks for the drink, but, I gotta go thank Kyung Mi for helping me out. I never would've pulled it off without her help."

Though in the mood to celebrate, Hawkeye just nodded. BJ made to stand and follow Emily, but she held out a placating hand.

"It's okay, BJ," she said, "I'll be back later. You hang here and have some fun." She smiled. He could tell that she felt a residual restlessness. His eyes darted between her and Hawkeye. She smiled warmly and put her hand on his arm. "Really, it's fine."

BJ nodded once. Emily patted Hawkeye and Sid on the shoulder and set off back to camp with Colonel Potter.

"You know," Potter said, looking sideways at her, "it took a lot of guts to try something like that." She made a noise of agreement, but said nothing. Potter continued, "It must have been frightening."

She snorted, "'Frightening'?" She gave a short, almost bitter laugh. "Try 'absolutely terrifying'."

Potter sat down for a moment on the bench outside of post-op, sensing that Emily would be willing to talk to him. Frank would have to wait. He said nothing.

"I thought I was having a heart attack," Emily said, as she sat down next to him. "My heart was beating so hard, I was kind of waiting for it to burst out of my chest. I didn't even know my heart could beat so hard."

Potter nodded. "That happens sometimes in stressful situations. It's nothing to worry about. It's just the body's hypersensitivity when it's trying to decide what to do: fight or flight." He knew that she knew that, but it didn't hurt to reassure her.

"You know," she said quietly, in a thoughtful tone of voice, "it's strange, but I think I was more terrified then than I was when I was running here to get help." Emily looked up, squinting in the bright sunlight. "I know that probably doesn't make sense…,"

"Well, we all process things differently," he said, equally quietly.

"I guess…when I was running here, I wasn't thinking anything else other than get help. I had to. I needed to. There wasn't anything else in my mind but that. It was like, until I accomplished that, I couldn't risk thinking about anything else. It wasn't until after I got help and things started to sink in that I was afraid. I suppose I was afraid of what _might_ have happened. But when I was faking that guy out, all I kept thinking about was the possibilities of what might happen if I wasn't convincing enough." She stopped and looked down at her feet as though embarrassed. "I was terrified."

Colonel Potter looked kindly at her and put his hand on her knee. "Being afraid is never something to be ashamed of or embarrassed by."

Emily smiled faintly. "Funny you should say that," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Oh?" he asked, looking quizzically at her.

"Mama – Kyung Mi's mother – always told me as a kid, 'Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear.' It took me awhile to realize that she meant that even brave people get scared. She was telling me that I was still a brave person, even though I was afraid."

Colonel Potter smiled warmly. "She was right. You're a damn brave woman. Just like my Mildred."

Emily smiled at the thought of "Mrs. Colonel Potter" as Radar called her. Sherm had talked a lot about her when he had visited Emily in post-op. She certainly sounded like one tough cookie. She looked over at Colonel Potter and thanked him wordlessly for his encouragement. The moment over, she smiled awkwardly, unsure what to do. "Uh, I had better go thank Kyung Mi. I'd have been sunk without her."

Colonel Potter smiled and gestured that she should go – after all, he still had Major Burns in his office to deal with. Emily patted him once on the shoulder and then disappeared into post-op. Colonel Potter watched her go, admiring her bravery. It wasn't just any one would could put up with the kind of things that Emily had dealt with. Though the more he thought about it, the more he agreed with what BJ had said earlier. Emily needed a family. She couldn't be expected to live that way forever. Hunnicut was up to something – of that Colonel Potter was certain. He only hoped that whatever he had in mind wouldn't come too late.

_So? Whatcha think? I hope you liked it! Please, please, please leave a review. Seriously, when I get the review notification from , it just makes my day. :D_


	10. Taking the Time to Be Happy

_Hi everyone! Here's the next installment of the story. I really appreciate everyone who's still reading. Thanks so much for your time. Also, thanks to my busy, but very talented beta Ladyhawke Legend. I would never post without her wonderful advice! A/N: Father Mulcahy's first name is John. People don't usually call him by it, but someone is going to use it in this chapter. Just so you're aware._

**Chapter 10**

Walking into pre-op, Emily found herself comforted by the quiet of the room. The few other patients, including Captain Conroy were napping. Kyung Mi was sitting up in bed, clearly waiting for her. Kyung Mi grinned broadly. "You are sneaky!" she exclaimed with a laugh.

Emily grinned conspiratorially at her. "I might be sneaky, but you're damn sneaky too. I couldn't have done it without you!"

Kyung Mi gave a half-shrug as if to say 'It was no problem, don't worry about it.' Emily smiled in return and sat down on the edge of Kyung Mi's bed. She jiggled her leg, still full of pent-up nervousness.

"So," Kyung Mi said slowly, "what now?"

Emily seemed to consider her question carefully, and then shrugged. "Not sure," she nibbled at her fingernails as she pondered.

"What about that doctor?"

"Which one? There are a lot of doctors around here."

Kyung Mi raised an eyebrow at her and said, "You know the one I mean. I am not stupid. I know he keeps an eye on you."

Emily knew she was talking about BJ, but refused to acknowledge BJ by name. So many other adults had come and gone in her life – her mother, her father, Kyung Mi's mother – so why should BJ be any different. If she wanted to be safe, she'd have to rely only on herself. Emily shrugged in response, suddenly feeling anxious.

"He would not let anything happen to you." Kyung Mi said, eyeing her friend. "Trust him."

"Yeah, well," Emily said, attempting to ignore what Kyung Mi had just said, "let's just worry about finding out what happened to everyone else in the village first. Okay?"

Kyung Mi pursed her lips, but said nothing. Finally, after an awkward silence, she spoke, "Emily, you are my best friend. But sometimes you are more stubborn than ox. BJ cares for you. He wants to take care of you. And she's proud of you. Don't doubt him!"

Emily looked away, trying to ignore being faced with the truth that Kyung Mi had just spoken. Emily could tell that Kyung Mi was annoyed. And right now, she didn't really want to be around other people. She needed a chance to think. She stood up and awkwardly said, "Well, I promised I wouldn't bother you for too long. You still need sleep after all." Kyung Mi seemed to accept her friend's excuse as she raised two fingers in a half-wave.

Emily could feel herself practically sprinting out of post-op. _Why is everything so confusing?_ _BJ really seems to care for me..like my own dad used to. But it's been just me taking care of me for so long… it's hard to believe that a complete stranger would want such an intense, caring connection with me. After all, what does he really know about me? It hasn't been that long since Dad died, but ever since the death of Mother, he'd become a recluse. I remember he was quiet, reserved, and seldom smiled. It was like Dad had died along with Mom. Despite what he said…I was never fooled. I knew that coming to Korea was just one more way to escape the life he used to have. It had nothing to do with wanting to spread the Gospel._

She sighed and walked toward the edge of camp. She sat there for a while, lost in thought. She nibbled her fingernails and considered everything that had happened. Chang Hee was gone. There was still no word on how he was doing – communication channels had been sketchy for a while and telling one patient about the status of another patient wasn't really high on the Army's priority list. Kyung Mi was healing, but wasn't entirely better yet. Hawkeye was very nice to her. Frank made her angry. And Radar was…distracting. She found the short clerk to be intriguing and kind. Though he was very shy around her, she felt very at ease with him. He was a good listener, was kind, and didn't judge anything she had to say.

And then there was the matter of BJ. _He's wonderful. Like the father I never had – which just confuses me even more. Why should he _want _to take on that role? What have I ever done for _him_?_ She shook her head slightly in confusion. She bit, harder still, on her fingernails.

"You shouldn't do that, you know," came a voice from behind her, conversationally.

So deeply lost in her thoughts, Emily hadn't heard anyone approach. She jumped up, startled, and spun around with her fists up. Hawkeye stood behind her. He jumped a little at her confrontational stance. He held up both hands in a placating gesture. "Easy," he said.

She groaned, let out a breath she hadn't realized that she had been holding, and said, "Jesus, Hawkeye, you scared the hell outta me!"

"Sorry," he said, putting his hands in his pockets. When Emily didn't say anything, Hawkeye repeated, "You shouldn't do that."

"Shouldn't do what?" Emily asked, perplexed.

"Bite your nails. It's bad for your teeth, and it's bad for your fingers. Lemme see."

He held out a hand, waiting for her to give him her hand. She didn't move. "No," she said, sounding like a recalcitrant child, securely tucking her hands in her pockets.

He took a step closer. "C'mon. Give 'em. I'm not kidding." He was once again using the serious voice, which seemed so incongruous with his usually cheerful demeanor. She rolled her eyes and obliged, pulling her right hand out of her pocket. She presented it to him. "Sorry, it's kinda sweaty," she said, looking somewhat embarrassed.

Hawkeye said nothing as he examined the somewhat dirty appendage. The nails were bitten down to the nail bed. The cuticles were red and irritated. They had obviously bled recently. "So, you bite your nails a lot?" he half-asked. He continued to eye the fingers clinically, and then gestured for the other hand. He found the same situation with the other hand. He said nothing more about her mangled fingernails; he would mention the problem to BJ and Sid later. Rather, he said, "What're you doin' all the way over here?"

She shrugged and squinted in the bright sunlight. "You know, just…thinking," she answered lamely. Hawkeye dropped her hands and looked her dead in the eyes.

"Thinking about what?" he pressed.

"You know. Just…stuff,"

Hawkeye made a noise of annoyance in the back of his throat, but didn't push her to elaborate. His silence made her feel awkward.

She elaborated, "Things have just been…weird lately. Just kind of…sorting everything out in my mind."

Hawkeye nodded once. He put a friendly arm around her. "Well, instead of moping here like ole Ferret Face Burns, how about you join me and BJ for a game of cards?"

She smiled and nodded. Now that she had had some time to consider things, she had begun to realize just how precarious her place in the camp was – and she found herself longing for some company. Perhaps with company she might forget, if just for a little while, everything that was upsetting her. Hawkeye led her from the edge of camp, back to the Swamp.

On the way back, Emily found herself, despite wanting company, still needing some final moments to herself. While she always liked hanging out with Hawkeye and BJ, she didn't think that she could stand Hawkeye's teasing banter just then. "Hey Hawkeye," she said hesitantly, "mind if I grab some food from the mess tent and then meet you two for cards?"

"Sure," he said, patting her on the shoulder. "See you in a little bit."

Emily nodded and made her way to the mess tent. She didn't really want something to eat, but being alone a little longer gave her a chance to compartmentalize. She was sidetracked, however, by the lone figure of Father Mulcahy. He was sitting on his own, staring quite morosely into the cup of coffee in front of him. She had never seen the priest looking quite so depressed before.

Grabbing her own cup of coffee, she approached him. "Mind if I join you?"

Mulcahy barely looked up, lost in his own thoughts. He gestured vaguely, "Oh, of course. By all means…" He returned to examining his coffee cup.

She cut right to the chase. "You seem down. What's up?"

The Father hesitated. "Is that obvious that I'm upset?" he asked, somewhat self consciously, "No one else picked up on it yet. I thought I was holding things together pretty well."

"Well," Emily admitted, "I only just figured it out, so you're not doing so bad." She smiled, encouragingly and said, "So, what's the story, morning glory?"

Mulcahy paused for a moment, considering his thoughts. "I've been rather disappointed recently with the turnout at my Sunday sermons. I know Klinger comes so that he can wear his Sunday best. Granted, those outfits are quite nice. And he does work very hard on them. But still…" He took a sip of coffee and shrugged. "And Colonel Potter only comes out of respect for tradition, I think. But I suspect that… his mind drifts during the service. Perhaps my sermons aren't so good. And attendance otherwise is…less than desirable. And to top it off, I had planned a surprise for the children at Sister Teresa's orphanage and now the party supplies that I ordered so long ago won't arrive for who knows how long. The children will be so disappointed." He stopped and let out a long sigh, looking as though he were near tears.

She put her hand over his. "I'm sorry you're having a rough time. I know that hurts."

He smiled at her encouragement, but from the look on his face, he could tell he was still upset by everything.

She looked around the tent. There was no one there but the two of them. She blew out a slow breath and did something that she didn't usually do – she began to sing. "Here's the story of a girl, who grew up lost and lonely. Thinking love was fairytale and trouble was made only for me. Even in the darkness every color can be found. And every day of rain brings water flowing to things growing in the ground. Anytime you're hurt there's one who has it worse around. And every drop of rain will keep you growing things you're sowing in the ground. So keep your head up Johnny, buddy."

She paused, gathering herself. Singing in front of other people made her so nervous that her hands were shaking, but she knew that doing that for him had been the right thing. Mulcahy had tears in his eyes. He grasped her hand across the table. "Thank you," he said, his voice choked a little. "Thank you for reminding me of how lucky I really am. I shouldn't let little things like this get me down. God will solve everything."

Emily smiled and nodded. "It's true. He will. But in the meantime, I think I can help you with your problems. Look, I promised I'd meet up right now with Hawkeye and BJ, but maybe we can meet up later tonight. I've got some good ideas."

The Father nodded, looking infinitely less gloomy.

"See you later then," Emily said as she jogged off out of the mess tent.

Father Mulcahy smiled after her. As she left, Emily could swear she heard the priest murmur, "God bless you."

In the cool shade of the tent, BJ was waiting. He was sitting on his bunk, shuffling a deck of cards – and he looked clearly relieved that she was there. He had clearly been worried by her absence.

But rather than continuing to be worried, he held up the pack of cards and said, "Care to play?"

She nodded and sat down next to him on the bed. Hawkeye sat on his own bunk. There was a small, improvised table between their beds. "You play rummy?" Hawkeye asked.

Emily nodded, still partially lost in thought. She accepted the cards one at a time as Hawkeye dealt them around the table.

Her gaze turned inward, clearly elsewhere, Hawkeye caught BJ's eye. He gestured with his own eyes towards Emily. BJ looked over and then back, confused. Hawkeye raised one of his own fingers, waggled it, and then looked back at Emily. BJ followed his gaze and saw her raw and recently bleeding cuticles. BJ nodded to Hawkeye that he understood. He would keep an eye out for her biting again.

While the three were enjoying a nice game of rummy, Radar was hard at work in his office, filling out a supply order form and collecting together the most recent batch of mail so that he could sort it. He hummed quietly as he worked. The phone rang, startling him out of his reverie. He hurried over to the desk and answered the phone. He listened intently to the caller, his face darkening as he did so. He hung up the phone and sighed.

Back in the Swamp, Emily had soundly bested both Hawkeye and BJ at least three times. Hawkeye couldn't say for sure, because he had "accidentally" lost count. There was a timid knock on the door and all three could see the trademark green hat and glasses peering through the window.

"Come on in, Radar," Hawkeye called, considering his next move. The clerk entered and then stood awkwardly in the doorway. At his lack of response, both Hawkeye and BJ looked up at him.

"What's up Radar?" said BJ, setting his hand face down on the table. The young clerk looked unusually serious.

"I haveta talk to you guys," he said. He took his hat off his head and twisted it around in his fingers, a clear indication that he was upset.

"Radar," Hawkeye said, looking quite seriously at him, "something's bothering you. Spill it."

Radar hesitated, and then said, "I just got a phone call. It was the hospital. They said that Chang Hee…that he's not…that he didn't, uh..." He cleared his throat and looked away from them all. Though his speech wasn't clear, his meaning was – Chang Hee hadn't made it. Radar was embarrassed and upset that he had to deliver such news. He continued, not meeting any of their eyes, "They said that at first, he was doing okay. But then he got an infection after surgery and…" he trailed off looking distinctly uncomfortable.

Hawkeye and BJ looked at each other, and then both looked over to Emily. She was sitting very still, her face carefully neutral. It was like she was swimming underwater. She could hear Radar speaking. She even understood what he said, but it was like none of it processed fully in her brain. She heard him said that Chang Hee was dead, yet she didn't seem to have the energy to react. She knew she should be angry, upset, disbelieving…or something. But instead she just felt a blank, dead, emptiness. She looked down at her cards. Three Jacks.

She placed them down on the table and said, "When did they say he died?" Her voice was stiff, mechanical.

"Uh, two days ago," Radar said. "They said they'd been trying to get through to us since then, but that the lines had gotten kinda scrambled and they couldn't."

Emily nodded. She didn't know what else to say. In her heart, she had somehow already long since known that Chang Hee wouldn't be coming back. So now, hearing the concrete pronouncement didn't really surprise her. It was just confirmation of what she had already known. BJ put an arm around her and pulled her close.

She could tell tt worried him. She knew she hadn't really said anything. In fact, she knew that she barely seemed to have any emotions about the situation at all. It was a defense mechanism, and they all knew it. But it just wasn't healthy to have no reaction at all.

Radar awkwardly took his leave from the Swamp and went to go tell Colonel Potter and the others the news. It would spread fast in the small camp. The three sat in silence, cards forgotten. Hawkeye saw, almost reflexively, one hand come up to her mouth. She began to nibble, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was doing it.

BJ reached over and pulled her hand away from her mouth. "Don't do that," he said, quietly but sternly. "It's bad for you."

"Hmmm?" she asked, looking up. She looked at BJ's stern expression, and then down at her own nails. "Oops," she said, seeing the ragged and bleeding fingers. She sat for a moment and then let out a slow, deep breath through her nose. She substituted nibbling on her nails for rubbing one nail against the pad of another finger. She found a kind of comfort in the pressure being exerted on her nails. She couldn't explain why, but it was soothing. She cleared her throat and said, "He was a good man."

Not having personally known Chang Hee, BJ and Hawkeye just nodded. For a moment, there was silence, each man attempting to figure out something comforting to say, but nothing came to mind. They were saved, however, from having to think of anything by a commotion outside. A jeep had pulled up outside the colonel's office. A small Korean woman, who was being escorted by two soldiers, climbed carefully out of the jeep. Looking out the screen siding of the Swamp, Emily exclaimed, her voice rising in sheer disbelief, "Mama?"

_Thoughts? I'd really appreciate if you'd leave a review. Also, just a note: the song that Emily sings is a real song. For those of you interested, it's part of a song called "Penny's Song" sung by Felicia Day. It's part of an online movie called "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog". It's excellent, and I highly recommend you see it if you haven't already. XD You can find the song on YouTube, if you're interested. Please review!_


	11. The Unexpected Letter

_Alrighty, here's the next chapter of The Best Care Anywhere. So many thanks go to Ladyhawke Legend. She betas faithfully for me and totally willingly accepts my really slow betas of her own stories which, by the way, are excellent. Anywho, enjoy the new chappie!_

Chapter 11

Emily flew out of the tent, towards the diminutive woman, who was being helped by the driver out of the jeep. "Mama!" she exclaimed again.

The old woman smiled and waved. Then she stood holding open her arms for a hug. Emily gladly stooped down and hugged her enthusiastically. A quick exchange passed between the two, in quick, rapid-fire Korean. Emily's head was bobbing up and down as she listened. Hawkeye and BJ heard the old woman ask, "Kyung Mi", and saw Emily nod once.

Mama's smile brightened immensely. There was a split second of silence and the woman asked, "Chang Hee?" Emily held her face neutral, and she shook her head once. Mama's smile faltered slightly, but it was quickly back in place, if not somewhat less radiant.

Emily took the old woman's arm with one hand, gestured with the other hand towards post-op, and then led her into the building. Following slightly behind them, Hawkeye and BJ heard a squeal of sheer delight as Kyung Mi saw her mother was still alive. Emily let go of Mama's arm by the door and allowed the mother and daughter to meet up on their own. The embrace was exuberant. The two women chattered with each other in brisk Korean.

Hawkeye came up behind Emily, who was respectfully standing back near the doors into post-op giving them space, and he tapped her. Quietly, he asked, "How did she find you guys?"

Emily whispered back, "From what I understood, she got out of the village — she doesn't really remember how. But she was wounded and got taken to the 8063rd where they took care of her. A lot of the other villagers who hadn't died yet got taken there too. Apparently, most of them didn't make it out." She paused and cleared her throat as BJ came up behind Hawkeye. "Mama said that one of the boys down the street protected her during the attack. She figures that's why she's still alive. Anyway, she wanted to find me and Kyung Mi. She talked with the head of that unit who told her that there was only one other M*A*S*H unit where any other wounded from that site would have been taken — here."

BJ nodded. The 8063rd and the 4077th were very close to each other by helicopter. Both camps sometimes got overflow from the other camp. "Apparently," Emily continued, "she was so insistent about going that she drove the commander crazy. He finally just agreed that so long as he could find a driver to bring her here, she could come…obviously he found one."

Oblivious to this exchange, Mama and Kyung Mi were sitting close to each other, deep in conference. Speaking in soft Korean, Emily could hear Kyung Mi explained to her mother about what had happened, about Emily's bravery, about what had happened there at the camp, and about how she wished that Emily would be able to stay with the nice Americans. She knew that life would be nicer for her friend with Americans than it would be among her own people. When there wasn't a war, it was fine (if not somewhat strange) to be an American among Koreans. When there was a war going on with America, it was downright dangerous to be an American among Koreans. Emily needed somewhere safe to be. Emily could see Mama nod, agreeing with her daughter's thoughts.

Emily wandered over, hanging back slightly before intruding on their conversation. She said, "That doctor over there," she thumbed back over her shoulder to Hawkeye, "wants to know if you want something to eat."

Mama nodded once, looking pleased. She looked over at Hawkeye and smiled. She knew that not all Americans were bad — these ones certainly weren't. With a flourish of his arm, Hawkeye invited them to the mess tent. The two Korean women, who were both physical healed and at ease, followed him.

As soon as the trio walked in, the mess tent was buzzing. Kyung Mi had only recently been well enough to get out of bed, while Mama was a totally new face. Emily could see Frank making faces (doubtless about the presence of "more Koreans") from across the room, but she didn't care.

Soon, with some trays of food, the three sat down, along with Hawkeye, BJ, and Colonel Potter, who by this point had been altered as to the new visitor in his camp. Not long after, Father Mulcahy asked if he might join them. A seat was made for the priest across from Mama.

After an embarrassed moment, Father Mulcahy asked, "Excuse me, I was just wondering if you speak English."

Mama smiled warmly and said, "I speak English. The young ones, their English is gooder than me. Much better. I very proud them." Mulcahy nodded and smiled and conversation flew smoothly around Emily while her mind wandered.

Though Emily was thrilled to see Mama was still alive, she felt oddly empty. In a strange way, there was something almost comforting in thinking that Kyung Mi too was an orphan. She knew such thoughts were mean-spirited, but she couldn't help herself from having them.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. The 4077th staff spent a great deal of time talking with the two Korean women and escorting them about the camp. BJ kept eyeing Emily — no doubt he could tell that something was off.

That night, she couldn't sleep. Every night at the 4077th since she had recovered had been easy sleeping. That was not to say that she didn't have dreams and nightmares, because she did nearly every night. But she was never one to have trouble falling asleep. Finally, abandoning her cot in the Swamp, she snuck out and sat on the bench outside post-op. For a long time she sat lost in thought, looking up at the sky before a voice startled her out of her reverie.

"Hey Kiddo, whatcha doin' out here by yourself so late at night?"

Emily looked down and was greeted by the sight of Klinger – dressed in a light green, knee-length dress with dark green polka dots, a matching pair of green pumps, a clashing red handbag — and a rifle. She smiled. "Thinkin'," she said evasively, but warmly.

"Well, I'm supposed to be doing some guarding, but I don't think it'd hurt anyone if I sat with you for a minute."

For a long time the two sat in silence. "Klinger, why do you wear those dresses?" she asked. It wasn't that she hadn't heard other people's opinions or reasons why because she certainly had heard them. She wanted to hear his own answer.

"Well, I'm hoping that Colonel Potter will give me a section eight — you know — a crazy discharge."

She blinked. "Klinger, how long have you been wearing dresses for?"

He didn't answer. She had a feeling that he couldn't remember himself. Finally he said, "I'm not sure."

"Well, uh, not to be a downer or anything Klinger, but don't you think that if Colonel Potter was gonna give you a section eight that he would have given you one already?"

Klinger made a noise of surprise. "Maybe you're right," he said glumly. Then he perked up and said, "I just need to try something else. Something crazier! Something that will get me sent home and away from this nut house for sure!"

For a moment, Emily looked at Klinger and felt a twinge of upset. His only thought was getting away from Korea. Everyone at the 4077th had been there a long time. If he kept wishing away his life to a point in time when he'd be somewhere else, he'd miss out on spending some truly wonderful experiences at the 4077th with some of the nicest people that Emily had ever met. She felt she had to say something.

Klinger got up to continue his guarding with a wave goodbye and short, "See you later!" in her direction.

"Klinger, wait!" Emily called.

He turned, red handbag swinging. He looked quizzically at her.

"There's a story in my village of a shepherd. He left the fields he knew and loved to travel two days away with his flock to cross a small sea to another country. Once he got there, his money and nearly all his sheep were cheated away from him by dishonest men who preyed on unsuspecting newcomers. The shepherd felt so lost and confused that he sat down and cried. He was far from home, had lost those things he loved the most, and didn't know who or what to cling to. Suddenly he realized that he had one of two choices: to consider himself the poor victim of a thief or to consider himself an adventurer in a new place in search of new things to know and love. He chose the second.

"Which will you choose, Klinger? For now, you're in Korea. No one knows how long it will be until you return home. By spending all your time concocting ways to get sent home, you're wasting a period of time with some of the best people imaginable. That's a wonderful gift. Don't focus so much on the future that you lose sight of the present. Though the situation is negative and might seem like your 'real life' has been stolen from you, only you can control your attitude and response to the situation."

He didn't say anything. She could tell she had hit a nerve. For a moment they just stared at each other. "Yeah, well, uh," he said, shifting his rifle and handbag nervously from hand to hand, "I better get back to guard duty." He turned and left, though she knew his mind wouldn't be on guard duty that night.

The rest of the night passed just as restlessly as the rest. Her mind was too preoccupied to really allow for any rest. A thought began nagging in the back of her mind. At first, it took her a long time to even realize what exactly that thought was. But once the idea registered and took hold, she knew in her heart that there was no forgetting or ignoring it.

Morning came far too slowly, and Emily watched the sun rise, low and golden. Slowly, the camp rustled to life. BJ emerged, with tussled hair, from the Swamp. He spied her sitting on the bench and walked over.

"Whatcha doing up so early?" he asked, clearly still half asleep himself.

She shrugged. No need to worry him. "I got up to go to the bathroom and decided to wait for the sun rise."

He smiled lop-sidedly and looked at her bleary-eyed. "I'd love to stay and watch it with you, but…nature calls." He ruffled her hair and was off. She smiled…though she couldn't help but still feel some sense of emptiness. This new thought that had crawled into her brain just wouldn't leave her alone. She spent much of the morning lost in thought, barely interacting with the others. Around mid-afternoon, she found herself sitting in the same spot she had been in that morning.

Finally, she realized—there was something she had to do. She knew it with stunning clarity. Things would never be truly resolved in her mind until she could visit it…just one last time. Quickly and quietly gathering the things that she would need, she made her way to the edge of camp. Looking quickly at the 4077th behind her, she knew her only choice would be to go alone. If she involved other people, things would get complicated. She knew someone would say it was too dangerous, and that she was asking for trouble. They would prevent her from going. She couldn't let that happen. After another brief glance at the 4077th, she hoisted onto her back the empty backpack that she had borrowed from the supply tent. She had filled it with some small amount of food and water, a blanket, and a few other things, just in case.

She didn't expect to get delayed anywhere on her way. Though not born a Korean, she knew the hills and valleys of this part of Korea quite well. She would keep off the road, cutting through forested areas, where it was unlikely that she'd run into hostiles from either side. The sun was high in the sky. Near about noon, she figured. With her backpack in place, she made sure no one was looking and turned and walked off camp out into the wild of Korea. She knew in her heart she had to go back—back to her village.

She relished the warm sun and the light breeze, though the quiet of the area was unnerving. She had grown, though she didn't realize it immediately, accustomed to the general murmur of life in a camp full of people. Compared to that, the silence of the outside seemed almost lonely. Though the walk was longer than she remembered, she had no problem finding her way back.

The closer she came to the village, the more surreal things felt. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but she would swear that the sky was a little darker, and that the few birds that had been singing before were now depressingly silent. Rounding the last bend in the road before the village, she turned the corner and felt her jaw drop.

In the distance there was complete wreckage. Piles of rubble that had once been houses covered the main street. The smell of smoke hung in the air. The silence was deafening. She approached the site in a daze. For awhile, after reaching it, she stood on the edge of the village unable to go farther.

On unsteady legs, she moved like a dream into the center of the village. In her mind's eye she could see the whole village rebuilding itself. Rubble reformed into the houses it had once been with shadows of people she knew standing in its streets. Walking with mechanical strides, she found herself standing where her house had once been. Carefully walking into the rubble, she shifted boards aside, plowing through the rubble for anything that might have survived.

Ready to give up hope after a few minutes, she turned to leave when a glimpse of tan caught her eye. Carefully shifting aside some debris, she found a book charred around the edges. She had never seen it before. Being mindful of the charring, she carefully opened the book. It was a worn copy of the Bible with her father's name scratched onto the cover page. Though her father had died a year and a half ago, Emily had never gone through his belongings. They were not hers to go through as far as she was concerned. But seeing as how this was the only book that had survived the onslaught of the village, she felt it was appropriate to look at this one. Gingerly flipping through the pages, the book voluntarily opened to a page. Tucked in the center of the book between two pages was a worn envelope.

Curiosity overtaking her, Emily pulled the letter from the Bible and set the Bible aside, slowly sitting on a pile of rock. She noticed that the envelope was already open. Glancing at the front, Emily was shocked to see her own name as the recipient and her old American address as the destination. To her even greater surprise, in the upper left corner she saw her mother's name and an unfamiliar address from Europe. Hands trembling, she pulled the letter carefully out of its envelope and began to read. The cursive writing curled attractively, drawing her in.

_My __dearest darling - since I've been abroad I have missed you so very much. Certain events have compelled me to extend my travels. One day, when you're older, you will learn all about the people I have befriended and the dangers I have faced. At times the world can seem an unfriendly and sinister place, but believe me when I say that there is much more good in it than bad. All you have to do is look hard enough. And what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events may, in fact, be the first steps of a wondrous journey._

_I hope to have you back in my arms soon, darling, but in case this letter arrives before my return, know that I love you. It fills me with pride to know that no matter what happens in this life, that you will act with kindness, bravery, and selflessness, as you always have. And remember one thing, my darling, and never forget it: that no matter where your father and I are, know that as long as you have people who care about you and treat you with kindness and love, you have your family. And you are home. You'll be in my arms soon, my angel._

_All my love,_

_Mom_

Reading those words that had been written long ago, yet were still so personal, Emily felt a tear slip down her cheek. She glanced heavenward. Emily felt such a sense of love and happiness envelope her — and she knew truly in her heart that everything would eventually be all right. Perhaps not that day, or even that year, but eventually everything would be right. Though she hadn't known that either the letter or the Bible had existed, finding the two things — a memento of her father and the first real thing she owned of her mother's — quieted the nagging in her heart that had encouraged her to return in the first place.

Face covered in a radiant smile, Emily pocketed the envelope and turned and headed back for the 4077th. She was sure that everyone there would be furious with her for what she had done, but she knew in her heart that she had done the right thing.

_So, what's the verdict? Is the story moving too slow? Too fast? Let me know what you think by leaving a review! :D_


	12. Becoming a Father Again

_Here's the next chapter. My apologies for it taking so long! I thought I posted this sooooo long ago! I can't believe I never did! T_T Sorry!_

Chapter 12

Emily's mind was far away as she made her return journey to the 4077th. She was brought abruptly back to earth however by a sharp shout. "There she is!" Within sight of the camp, Radar had spotted her and sent out the alarm. Emily took a deep, mental breath. She knew she'd catch a lot of flak for leaving in the first place. Steeling herself for the verbal sparring match that she knew would be forthcoming, she picked up her pace. Her return to the camp was cacophonous. Everyone was yelling, pressing in from all directions, patting her on the back. Some people seemed angry. Some seemed relieved. Some just seemed happy to see her.

From behind her, she heard a yell and turned, to find herself enveloped in BJ's arms. He hugged her tightly, one hand on the back of her head, the other around her shoulders. "Thank God," he said, hugging her even tighter. Just as suddenly, he pushed her back to arm's length and looked her straight in the eye, a steely expression on his face. Apparently seeing the coming conflict, Emily could see Colonel Potter sheparding people away out of the corner of her eye. BJ shook her gently, returning her eyes to his. "Don't you _ever_ do that again," he said. His voice was low and dangerous. "Do you realize how much you scared us? Thank God nothing happened to you. I know you're smart. But this is Korea! There's a war going on! Please _think_ before you do something like that!"

Emily bristled. "Don't treat me like a child!" she said, indignantly.

BJ bristled right back, "If you're going to act like a child, then I'll treat you like one!" Hawkeye, Sydney, Radar, and Colonel Potter stood off to the side, heads moving back and forth, watching the two like a tennis match.

Emily pulled away from him. "I can take care of myself!" she said, looking annoyed. "And I'm not stupid – I know it's Korea. I know there's a war. In case you've forgotten, I was able to take care of myself for a long time before _you_ guys got here!" As soon as she said it, she regretted it. She didn't really mean it. She hadn't meant for it to sound like _that. _But, no one had given her a chance to explain _why_ she had left. Or _where_ she had gone. Or to even show them what she found. They all just started yelling and screaming at once. It was too much.

She could tell she had hit a nerve. BJ froze as though stunned and then arranged his face into a carefully neutral expression. "Fine," he said calmly. "Go do whatever you want. You're an adult. Don't let me stop you." He turned and walked away. Struggling between annoyance and tears, Emily stalked off in the opposite direction.

Colonel Potter and Hawkeye exchanged a look. Without a word, the two agreed. Right now, BJ needed the words of a fellow father while Emily needed someone she was comfortable with who would just listen. Colonel Potter headed to BJ in the Swamp while Hawkeye headed off in the direction of Emily. Sidney eyed Radar, who was clearly unsure what to do, and Sid said, "For now, it seems the situation is under control. How about you and I get some food?" Radar was never one to turn down food, so he nodded and headed off with the psychiatrist to the mess tent.

Colonel Potter found BJ sitting on his bunk, head in his hands. Without a word, the Colonel settled down opposite BJ, took off his hat, and waited. After a minute or so, BJ looked up. His face was raging with emotions. Some anger and annoyance, but mostly open sadness. "I was terrified," he said simply, spreading his fingers expressively.

"Terrified of what?" Colonel Potter asked, settling himself more comfortably on Hawkeye's bunk.

BJ took a shaky breath. "When she left, I – I was terrified that she would never come back. I just – I was afraid – I kept seeing…dead at the side of the road. And I realized how much I cared about her. And when she came back…I was so relieved…but so angry! I care about her. How could she just…take off and leave like that…without so much as a word. Doesn't she care about me? Doesn't she care about _any_ of us?"

Before Colonel Potter could answer, another voice from outside the tent interrupted. "Of course she care." The two looked over to see Mama standing outside the door, waiting to be invited in. BJ stood and opened the door. She came in, but refused the seat offered by Colonel Potter. BJ resumed his seat on his bunk.

"Of course, she care," Mama repeated. "You need understand. For long time, she alone. Her father always very far away. Maybe he body here. But mind is far away. He miss his wife. Emily grow up very lonely. She grow up fast. Kyung Mi and I keep eye on her. But she independent. She no used to have someone who care about her. Her mama, she no remember. It make her sad. Now, she have you. Kyung Mi tell me much – Emily like you. She like you a lot. But she need time. Do not give up on her."

BJ sat for a minute, processing. "I don't want to give up on her. I love her. I love her like she was my own daughter. I don't want anything to happen to her."

Mama gave a long laugh. She cleared her throat and said, very sincerely, "You no want _nothing _to happen to her? If nothing happen, how she live life? Things happen. They happen everyone. You no can stop them. But you got to let her know you is _there_ for her. That is best you can do." And with that, seeming to think her piece had been said, Mama gave a small bow and hurried out again, likely to rejoin with Kyung Mi. Since their reuniting, the two had been near inseparable.

Colonel Potter looked at BJ and said, "Damned if I could say it better myself. You know she loves you BJ. She's got that look in her eye. She takes real comfort in you. She trusts you like a father. But like Mama said, she's lived alone for a long time. She's still adjusting to having someone who really cares about her. She's learning the lesson that when you love someone, things change. I know she upset you and scared you, but try to take it in stride and move on. Maybe, some other day, explain to her _why _you got so upset. But for now, just let her know that you care and you want to be there for her."

BJ paused and took a deep breath. "I want to be more than just there for her now."

"Hmm?" asked Colonel Potter, looking confused.

"I wrote some long letters to Peg. I explained what's been going on here. And how I feel. I asked her…I asked her if Emily could live with us."

Colonel Potter sat, stunned. He knew BJ was a kind man with a big heart. But taking on a full grown adult as a new family member was certainly no easy task – especially from a country that the US was currently at war with.

BJ continued hurriedly, "If she'll have me, that is. I don't know. Maybe she likes being on her own. Maybe she's too old to have a dad again. Maybe –,"

Colonel Potter cut his upset ramblings short by placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're sure this is what you want?"

BJ nodded, eyes clear and serious. "I thought about it a lot and wrote about it a lot…and talked about it a lot. I had Radar connect me to Peg twice. We talked about it for awhile. Erin's been wanting a sibling. And Peg knows…she can tell…how I feel. She said that she trusted my judgment and would support me in this if it was something that I wanted to pursue. Of course, it's all up to Emily." He looked both pleased and terrified that he had finally said those words aloud.

Colonel Potter squeezed BJ's shoulder. "Son," he said, firmly. "You're a good man. Emily needs people like you and Peg and Erin in her life. She hasn't had a normal life being here. She needs to know what that's like. And I can't think of anyone better than you to teach her that. You're a fine father and a fine man. For now, the best you can do is let her know how you feel." BJ nodded. He made to stand, but the Colonel kept his hand on BJ's arm. "You might want to wait a bit. Hawkeye's gone to talk to her. I don't think she's really mad. I think she just got surprised that so many people care so much about her." BJ nodded and sank back down to the bed.

After some searching, Hawkeye found Emily behind the supply room, sitting on the ground, knees pulled up to her chest, head on her knees. He lowered himself down to sit beside her and waited. She looked up, expression unsure. Hawkeye eyed her briefly and gave her the mental once over. Other than dirty, she didn't seem to be any worse for the wear from her excursion outside of the camp. And so long as she was physically alright, they could take their time with being alright emotionally and mentally. "I'm sorry!" she blurted out. "I had to go!"

"Back to the village?" he asked. It wasn't really a question, though. She nodded.

They sat in silence for a minute. Finally Hawkeye said, "Did you find what you were looking for?"

In response, Emily rustled through the pack sitting next to her and brought out the Bible with the note in it. She handed it reverently and silently over to Hawkeye, who took it gently. He looked at the Bible, flipped through it, and came to the letter. He looked over the envelope, saw the name and date on the envelope as well as the sender and asked, "Your mother?"

She nodded once. He looked at her, silently asking for permission. Getting the permission that he sought, he pulled the letter out and read. After a moment, he looked up, to find Emily staring straight at him. "You got what you wanted?" he asked. She nodded again.

He could hardly blame her for wanting some closure. And honestly, he was thrilled that he'd found it. But he had to make her understand how hard the whole ordeal had been on BJ – how hard it had been on all of them. "I'm glad you found what you wanted," he said with a smile. "But," he said, expression suddenly stern, "next time, _tell_ someone before you leave. I know you're an adult. I know you're not stupid. And I know you've been here longer than we have. But around here, _no one_ is safe. Even adults rely on each other. We care about you. And we worry about you." He paused a moment for impact before saying, "Especially BJ."

Emily bit her lip, looking anxious. She knew she had behaved badly, but didn't seem to know what to do about it. Hawkeye stood. "I'm gonna get some grub, care to join? I hear the special of the day is day-old meatloaf," he joked.

Despite his attempt at levity, Emily looked distressed and shook her head.

"Well," Hawkeye said, "suit yourself." Maybe she just needed some time to think things through. He headed off toward the mess tent.

For awhile, Emily sat in thought. Apparently, Hawkeye had asked people to leave her alone, because no one else came to bother her. Emily found herself conflicted. She loved knowing that someone else cared for her. But part of her heart felt guilty. She had lived for so long in the quiet company of Chang Hee, Kyung Mi, and Mama. In their own way, they had helped raise her. And yet now she found herself longing for a life away from Korea. With someone else. She knew she wanted to stay at the 4077th forever. She'd grown to love that weird bunch of people. Somehow, in the chaos of it all, it made sense. It was more like home than anything else she'd ever known in her life. She couldn't remember what it was like living with her mother anymore. But she was certain that it felt like this.

And yet…what to do about Kyung Mi and Mama? Now that the two were reunited, they would certainly be off again…to somewhere. True, their village had burned down, but they'd moved once and they'd move again. They were strong women. Their lives would go on as before. Yet now, Emily wasn't so sure if she could go back to that kind of life again.

She was startled from her confused ruminations by a voice from behind her. Mama always seemed to know just what other people were thinking, and this was no exception. "Please understand, my daughter, she dear to me and_ this_ where I live. Even if not nice place, I can stand it. But, there no reason for _you_ to put up with and keep living here."

Emily stood, looking crestfallen. "You want me to leave?…"

"It not like that. I no try chase you out. But from what you father told me, Olivia not put up with nothing and _you_ her daughter. Understand? You mother would be more free in place where she spread arms wide. You father would say also."

"My father? Really?"

"Mmmmm. If there somewhere you rather be, you can go."

"B-but that wouldn't be right. How could I be anything less than grateful for what I have? I've been blessed with a father who loved me, two wonderful friends, Kyung Mi and Chang Hee, what more could I possibly want when I have people in my life who care about me as much as they do?

There are so many people who've been kind to me: BJ and Hawkeye and the others. And you – you've given me a place at your table, a roof over my head. I should feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I have so much to be thankful for right here. So, where else would I rather be?

Except…I didn't think that staying here in Korea would make me feel…so…so lonely. There's still so much I hope to learn about all of them. I want us to go on eating our meals in the mess tent together like a family where I can talk to them about so many things – everything. The truth of it is…I don't want to leave them at all. I feel like I belong here. I want to stay in that tent with BJ and Hawkeye…I want to stay." She took a shaky breath.

"In that case – why not come home?"

Emily turned around, shivers running up and down her spine. "BJ?" she asked, looking confused.

He took a deep breath and ran his hand shakily through his hair. "Since you've been here, I've…" he faltered, looking for the right words, "I've grown very attached to you. I've grown to love you as much as I love my own daughter. And I…I don't want…to lose you. When you left this morning…I couldn't hardly bear the thought of losing you. I've been talking a lot with Peg. And she's agreed. I mean…I suggested…" he cleared his throat and licked his lips.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that if you're willing…Peg and I would like to have you come stay with us…we'd like you to be part of our family." There. He'd finally said it. He couldn't believe how liberating it felt to have finally just said it. She looked at him for a minute.

Then she rushed at him and tackled him with a hug so hard that it nearly knocked him over and half knocked the breath from his lungs. "Are you sure?" she asked in a rush, her breath warm and slightly ticklish in his ear.

"I'm sure," he said firmly, into her hair. "And Peg is too. Erin will be so pleased to have a sister. And we'd love to have another member of our family."

"You mean…like forever?" she asked, suddenly sounding worried.

He blinked. "Why, of course," he said, softly. "Why not forever?"

He pulled away from her, to see her eyes looking worried and uncertain. "Well…" she hedged. "Forever is an awfully long time."

BJ just stared at her. She continued, "What if you get bored of me? Or if I spill strawberry jelly on your white rug? Or if I leave the kitchen messy? Or…"

BJ burst out laughing and hugged her to him. "When I said we wanted to make you a member of our family, which means no matter what. No walking on egg shells. No worries about things like that. We just want_ you_. And yes, that means forever."

Emily's lip trembled for a moment, her eyes watered, and then she buried her face into his shirt and burst into noiseless sobs. She trembled against him for awhile and then grew silent.

He calmly stroked her hair and waited, while inwardly, he was celebrating. He was a father again! And here was his daughter. He couldn't help but grin inwardly at himself as he was thinking about just how _brave_ his daughter was. And how _independent_. And _pretty._ He snickered at himself. Already the proud father.

For awhile, they stood. Just the two of them, giving and taking comfort from each other. Finally, they pulled apart and Emily tugged him over to where her backpack still sat. She reached down and grabbed the Bible. Wordlessly, she handed it to him. Hawkeye had retucked the letter back safely into the pages. Like Hawkeye, BJ took a moment and took in everything fully – the name in the Bible, the name of the sender of the letter and the addressee, the contents of the letter. Finally, he looked over and said, "Your mother."

Emily nodded and then said very quietly, "It's like a puzzle."

"What?"

"It's like I've been a puzzle with a few pieces missing. It's not so bad, but not as good as it could be either. This letter and the Bible filled in one piece. And you filled in another."

BJ was so touched that he didn't know what to do. So he said tremulously, "How about some lunch?"

She smiled. She was about to say, "Yes," but was interrupted by the loud speaker announcing "Choppers!"

_Thoughts? Please leave a review, it'd be greatly appreciated! __**More to come!**_


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